Practice
by Lutrani
Summary: Zeus prevented Cronus from escaping thanks to their warning, and the 7 never met. But 10 years after the fact, Cronus escapes, and comes after the 7 for revenge. They must leave their new lives, discover who they were, and put Cronus back in Tartarus.
1. Prologe

**Hey Guys, so this is my first attempt at fan-fiction. I'm more of a fiction or non-fiction kind of girl, but something about COTT is just so writable, especially the relationships. Anyway, I'm trying to do something here that would feel like a COTT episode, be it one of the long ones like Chaos 101. It's interesting to imagine where the different personalities of the characters would lead them later on it life, especially if they hadn't had the 'hero' experience, and I'm trying to explore a little bit of that too. **

**I want to stress that this project isn't gonig to die in the water for me, I've already planned what I'm gonig to do, it's just getting the time between classes to write everything out. Anyway, please enjoy and let me know what you think (review!). I haven't written a project this big in a while, and I'm really interested as to how my story-telling ability has survived my years of neglect.**

**- Lutrani.**

* * *

She wasn't like her brothers and sisters, her father or her children. She kept photos. In an old book tucked away where her husband couldn't pry, the glossy images were preserved. She took them out every now and then, sitting in front of her hearth to warm her old bones, and fingered through the pages. The images, some faded from years of exposure, some fresh as the day they were taken, came to life in front of her eyes, linking to memories that lay dormant in her mind until she opened the old album once more. Of course, her's was a more peculiar album, as she'd been around much longer than the traditional camera, and in fact, the album contained no more than 7 people. Strangely, the youngest and oldest photos seemed the freshest, while the images covering a short two year span were the most worn, as if somehow they'd been taken first. There was a brown-haired boy she had images of since he was a child, up until the newest pictures of him sitting behind an elegant desk, his name engraved in a bronze plaque on his desk _Jay_. A girl with bright orange hair in pigtails played in a sandbox in one image, and in the next she was riding a pony under the watchful eye of a well-groomed man. The images then flashed forward to a woman in a full length graduation gown, standing at a podium in front of a crowd of similarly dressed individuals. There was also a boy with strange purple hair, whose abnormal color followed him through a series of pictures which suggested that that was his natural color. In one image he was doubled over in the back of a library, blue hoodie over his head and eyes glued to a book held inches from his face. The title on the side could barely be interpreted as _Iliad_. In another, a full grown man was throwing a javelin in front of a cheering crowd, the sun reflecting on the yellow metal of a brace on one leg. In yet another, a small black baby was on the floor with a rifled handbag, amusing himself with a calculator he seemed to have procured from inside. In the next image he was a young man, beard on his face, bending over a computer with a look of satisfaction on his face. A girl with flare-red hair dominated the next sets of photos, as a young toddler running after a dog, as a young woman hiking through the forest, and a very recent photo of her and a brown-haired man with dreads. Next was another brown-haired boy, but he seemed much larger than the first. Even when shown as a baby fiercely hugging a brown teddy bear, an elderly woman watching over them. In a more recent photo he appeared as a bearded man, a pretty brown-haired woman next to him who had a visibly swollen stomach, smiles on both their faces. Finally, there were many images in many stages of life concerning a bleach-blond boy, as if proportionally he had more images of himself existing in the world than the other 6, and this ratio had to be represented in the album.

They were all precious to her, and in a strange twist of fate she found herself unable to reach out to them as she once had. It was one of the reasons the album had become to sacred to her. In fact, it was all she had to remember them by, her husband had removed everything else from the mountain. If he ever found her album, he'd remove that too. He'd made an oath to himself that this time around, that those children would be left out of things. Everyone, including herself, was forbidden to contact them, to interact with them in any way. So these days, she sat in front of her hearth, and cracked open the old leather of the photo album.

Mind you, every now and then, she did add a new photograph.


	2. Vague Feelings

The tiny marketplace buzzed around her, its busy energy engulfing her as she moved effortlessly between stalls. There was nothing like this back home in Canada, narrow streets pushing up against wooden stalls packed with exotic fruits and wares; People yelling in the streets, gesturing wildly to advertise this piece of artwork or that piece of jewellery; Small children running around her feet, giggling as they nicked small pieces of fruit from stalls when no one was looking. Yet even as she basked in the strangeness of it all, the scene seemed oddly familiar, as if at some point in her life she had come here unawares. The feeling only got worse the further she went into the crowded commerce center, to the point where it was the only thing she could think about, the former splendour of the atmosphere a mere shadow in her thoughts.

"Phil, do you get the feeling like you've been somewhere like this before?" She asked finally, unable to contain herself. She turned to her boyfriend, who had been lagging considerably behind her since they'd arrived. He had both hands deep into his jean pockets, and wore the expression of someone who was not pleased to be where he was, and wasn't afraid who knew. _He kind of looks like a pouting kid._ Atlanta thought to herself, smiling.

"Atlanta I have no idea what you're talking about." He replied gruffly, casting a wary gaze around the scenery. "Can we go now please?"

Atlanta gave her boyfriend a thorough look over. He had been acting strange ever since they'd arrived in New Olympia. Normally the dread-head was calm and collected in any situation they found themselves it, whether it be facing down a logging truck in Victoria, or scaling a cliff face on one of their frequent multi-day off-trail camping trips (now THERE was a story). But today he seemed suspicious and jittery, like he expected something scary to jump out at him every time they turned the next corner. She didn't like this behaviour from him, and decided quickly in her mind not to humour him. She'd come here to explore and shop, and soothing Phil's irrational fears wasn't a good enough reason to give that goal up.

"No, I'm not done." She replied curtly, turning away from him and pretending to be extremely interested in a jewellery stall she'd found herself in front of. She heard his sigh loudly behind her, and she smiled a little in satisfaction. But then her eye caught a necklace hanging from a display on the booth. It looked to be silver, with a round pendant decorated with black square carvings encircling a blue stone in the center. It was obnoxiously big for her tastes, and normally her eyes would have scanned over such a piece with no second thought. However, like the marketplace, the pendant tugged at the back of her mind. She had seen this before somewhere before, she knew it.

"Fine. I'm going to the Green Energy Seminar, I can't take this place anymore." Phil announced suddenly, breaking her chain of thought. She looked up from the stall, peering at Phil over her shoulder.

"Fine." She said. She was still a little mad at him for the childish way he was acting. "I'm staying here. See you at the Hostel tonight." She finished, looking back at the stall and doing her best to pretend like she wasn't paying attention to Phil behind her.

"Fine." Phil replied shortly. She could hear him shuffling his way between the masses of people crowded around the stalls, mumbling angrily. She turned around when she was sure he was gone. To be honest, she has begun to get a little creeped out by the marketplace. The déjà-vu feeling was almost overwhelming, and it annoyed her that she couldn't fit the place to a memory. But she wasn't about to tell Phil that. Leaving with him would only have validated the immature attitude he was taking with her, and she wasn't impressed by the way he was acting. She's meet him later at the Hostel, where they'd be cold to each other for a little while, but she knew that all too soon things would be back to their happy ways. That was how things worked with Phil and her, ever since he had stumbled into her life almost 3 years ago now. She smiled to herself as the brought the memory to her mind. He had been in the woods while she'd been hunting, almost like he was waiting for her. They'd tracked a moose for almost 5 hours after that, sensing a common goal. In the end, they stumbled on a grizzly that had already made the moose it's supper, and had to retreat nervously into the undergrowth to keep the animal from attacking. That night they'd shared the same campfire, laughing over their grizzly bear experience and sharing hunting stories. She'd been with him every since.

She still had the goofy smile on her face when her eyes drifted over the necklace again. She smile vanished instantly as the unsettling feeling of déjà-vu rose at the back of her throat once more.

"I see you looking at that necklace" An oily voice said suddenly. Atlanta's head snapped up and she saw the shopkeeper looking directly at her. "Its pure silver, protects against the evil eye. Would you be interested in purchasing it?" He asked, rubbing his hands together. Atlanta looked down one more time at the necklace.

"No thanks." She said quickly, turning without meeting the shopkeeper's eyes. This place was too creepy, she was going to check out the Coliseum.

* * *

She saw the building in the distance long before she actually reached it. Like a watchful giant it hung over the city, imposing but impassive. The Coliseum of New Olympia was a replica of the ancient Roman Coliseum, as no such building had existed in the history of the area that New Olympia now stood. However, its replica status made it no less imposing to the passing eye, and to Atlanta, who had come here to further her training, it was truly an awe inspiring sight.

She had seen the ad in the Vancouver Sun three months ago, a state-of-the-art sprinter training program being initiated at the new Coliseum in the sleepy little town of New Olympia. It was hard being an athlete in Canada, especially if you specialized in an underappreciated field such as sprinting. It seemed like Hockey was the only sport that got any funding in her home country, and so far she had been training herself with the money she made as a tour guide in the Sooke Potholes Provincial Park. So when she had seen the offer to bring potential students to the training facility, airfare paid, she'd jumped at the chance. All you needed to do was make a qualifying time in a trial run, and you were in. Atlanta, of course, could make the time in her sleep, the hard part had been convincing Phil to go. For whatever reason, he was adamantly against it, coming up with every excuse not to go that she'd ever heard. But she'd kept at it, and once she'd found out that the European Union was actually holding a Green Energy Conference in New Olympia at the same time, she'd finally broke him down. But she'd had to promise him that they were only going for the two days she needed to check out the program. She hadn't really understood, but she'd agreed, being grateful that she'd got her way. But he'd been pouting ever since they'd arrived. It made her feel like even thought she got him to go; he had won in the end.

The Coliseum was holding mock Olympic Games, Ancient Greek style, for potential students to attend the day after they arrived, showcasing some of their current students. Atlanta had tickets to that show, but a big part of her wasn't about the pizzazz and glory that came with being a successful athlete. In fact, in her mind they kind of got in the way of perfecting your sport, like a car's high beams reflecting in your rear-view mirror while you were trying to drive. She wanted to see the building in the light of day, when it wasn't trying to show off. When the building was just being itself. Unfortunately for her, she had no control over the tourist industry in the area, and as she neared the building, flocks of tourists came into view in front of her. Like flocks of pigeons who unknowingly fowl monument walls, they bobbed to and forth, snapping photos and talking incessantly about this and that, obstructing her view and her musing. Already annoyed by Phil's behaviour, this unexpected inconvience grated her nerves, and she was completely absorbed in plans to plow through the crowds when a hard object hit her in the back of the head and sent her neck snapping forward.

"Heads up!" Shouted a voice behind her. She staggered forward into the crowd, sending babbling tourists scattering. Grabbing the back of her head where the object had hit, she caught sight of a soccer ball on the floor. She almost couldn't believe that it had been a soccer ball that had hit her, she'd never been knocked off her feet by something before, let alone a soft soccer ball. But then her hand ran over groves in her neck and she realized that these were the grooves left by the soccer ball as it'd ploughed into her skin. Swearing, she grabbed the soccer ball and stood up.

"Oh shit! I'm sorry I didn't see where-" Came a voice behind her. Atlanta spun around, ready to yell at the jackass who had hit her in the back of the head. But as she saw him, her voice caught in her throat. And so did his.

She felt something when she saw the stranger, but it was not an emotion she could explain. It was a deeper feeling than déjà-vu, but not altogether different. Like tasting a favourite dish you'd completely forgotten you'd liked. But at the same time, he didn't seem like someone you could easily forget. He had grey eyes which stared at her in shock from beneath a whip of bright purple hair that had fallen over his face. His nose stuck out from his face at an awkward angle, like it had been broken in his life and never properly healed. A purple lighter than his hair complimented a triangular goatee on his face, and suggested to her with more than a hint of curiosity that purple was his natural hair color.

"Way to fumble Arch!" Shouted a young man that came up behind the purple-haired boy suddenly. He slapped the stunned youth on the back good-naturedly, snapping him out of his stupor.

"I-uh-shit, sorry." The purple-haired boy stumbled out his words, looking away from Atlanta's gaze and rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

"It's… okay." She muttered back. Atlanta couldn't believe how small her own voice sounded to her. What was happening? She'd never acted like this.

They both stood awkwardly for a moment, slightly looking each other's way, but both without anything significant to say. Then suddenly the purple-haired boy's friend reached out and grabbed the soccer ball from Atlanta's hand, declaring "Thank you!" very loudly, making them both jump slightly.

"Com'on Arch, we've only got so many hours of daylight today." The boy said, taking the shoulders of the purple-haired boy and turning him around slowly, as if leading a small child. The purple-haired boy kept his head turned towards her for a moment. "Yeah." He replied absent-mindedly to his friend. "uh, sorry, nice to meet you." He mumbled to Atlanta, just as his head completely turned.

"Yeah." Atlanta murmured as the other boy led him away.

"Nice to meet you? What the hell was that?" She could hear the other boy mocking the purple-haired stranger as they moved into the distance. Atlanta shook her head as if waking from a dream, and stared dimly around her for a moment.

"Jesus." She muttered. _What the hell is wrong with me?_ Shaking her head again, this time in disbelief, she decided to forgo her tour of the Coliseum and go to meet Phil at his Seminar. Things were getting too weird for her, and that was why she'd left the marketplace in the first place. Besides, she could check the place out tomorrow during the student demonstrations.

* * *

"Damn ketchup packets" muttered the old man as he fiddled with the plastic pouch between his fingers. Steaming fries sat before him, a treat from his favourite hotdog stand. He'd retreated to a park bench under the dim light of a street lamp to enjoy his dinner, but things were never as simple as they seemed.

"You'd think after 2000 years they could come up with a better way to distribute these things." He tried for the packet one more time, only to succeed in ripping the packet in two and splattering the red goo over his cloths. "Dammit!" He yelled. Then, in a much quieter voice, he said "I can see you in the dark there Cronus, why don't you step into the light to talk to me?"

A man chuckled, more to himself than for the benefit of anyone else, and stepped out of the shadow into the light of streetlight the old man was seated under. "You know, for the Oracle, you really should have seen that coming." He muttered, gesturing to the old man's stained shirt.

"Yes, well, things don't always turn out the way they seem, do they Cronus?" murmured the Oracle. "Are you here for another prophecy about your global takeover?"

Cronus humphed. "I think not Oracle, we all know what that led to the last time." The old man looked up from his fries for the first time, his eyebrows narrowing behind his sunglasses. "Then what do you want Cronus?"

Cronus smiled, pink scar stretching over his face as he looked down on the frail-looking man. "Oh I think you already know that Oracle." And as Cronus spoke, a hulking towering shape stepped out of the shadows into a sliver of the streetlight. "This time you're coming with me old man."


	3. Just a Little Workout, Like old Times!

He was nervous, the sweat bands on his wrists barely preventing the javelin from slipping out of his sweaty palms. He could hear the crowd cheering outside, but that wasn't what had him on edge. In fact, usually the crowd made him feel truly alive, as if it was in his blood to grandstand and enjoy himself while doing it. But today, he couldn't get that red-headed girl out of his thoughts, the one he'd hit with an errand soccer ball yesterday. She lingered at the back of his mind no matter what he did, like the vague reminiscence of a good movie. He'd even dreamed of her last night. But it had been a confusing dream, with other people he did not recognize, and a river that was trying to drown him. The red-haired girl had been there, and he remembered being angry with her.

He shook his head, physically trying to clear the image from his mind. He normally didn't think this much before performing, it was messing with his concentration. Readjusting the brace on his leg, a nervous habit he'd begun to recognize in himself, he heard his name being called in the ring. Trying one last time to put the red-head out of his mind, he grabbed his javelin and headed out to the ring.

_"And now, Archie 'the Achilles' King!"_

Archie stepped out onto the sand pit, raising both hands to the cheering crowd. In the arena, with the people and his sport, the red-head was finally driven from his mind.

_"Archie here comes to us from New Jersey USA, and has been a student at the New Olympia Coliseum for 2 years."_

He took his place on the track and ran through his routine in his head as the announcer continued.

_"Archie here got his nickname "Achilles" from his impressive performance in the javelin, high jump, and sprinting events. All sports that Achilles traditionally excelled at. Interestingly, Archie also has a weak heal as Achilles did, and must wear a leg brace in order to compete."_

He couldn't help but cringe a little inside every time the announcer went over his leg brace. He hated having a weakness, and imagining he needed extra help just to be at a competing level with his peers drove him crazy. But the crowd loved it, and what the crowd loved, the announcer said.

_"And now, Archie "the Achilles" King!"_

That was his cue. Archie took off from his starting point in a cloud of dusty sand. Javelin in hand, he negotiated the track around the ring. Leaping over obstacles and sailing above the ground at break-neck speed, to the oohs and ahhs of the audience. Then he reached the pole jump portion of his routine. Plucking the pole from the ground while still running, he approached the jump with javelin in hand. He'd perfected a method for high jumping while holding his javelin for balance, before throwing it as he descended after passing the bar. It was one of his favourite moves, and always drew cheers from the crowd. But as he dug the end of the pole into the ground, he heard gasps instead of cheers. Confused, but too far to stop the manoeuvre, he began sailing upwards towards the bar. Only to smack into something that felt like a wall, and be sent crashing to the ground. Usually graceful, he landed painfully on his back, high-jump pole falling uselessly to the ground beside him. The javelin was still gripped in his white clenched fist.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything Archie." A deep voice purred. Archie, still collecting his wits, looked up at the sound of the voice. A dark clothed man was looking down at him, face twisted into a sneer which stretched an old pink scar over his face. Archie couldn't explain why, but the sight of this old man sent a foreign streak of fear up his spine. As if someone had once told him of something terrifying, something that reminded Archie of this old man. But he couldn't quite remember who it had been, or exactly what they had said he should be scared of.

The man leaned in suddenly, putting his face inches from Archie's. "BOO!" he yelled. Archie jumped, immediately regretting it as the old man threw his head back and laughed. "Ah Archie, you never fail to entertain me."

He then looked up to the crowd, and Archie took the opportunity to scramble to his feet. "But this," he yelled, raising his hands in an embracing gesture to the crowd, "this charade of sport does not amuse." He looked down at Archie again, hands still held high, and met the boy's eyes. He was still smiling. "I think we need to show these morals what a real Coliseum is!" As he finished his statement, the crowd suddenly erupted in screams. Archie spun away from the old man's gaze, and saw inanimate hands forming from the faux-stone of the stands. They chased down spectators in the crowd as they tried to flee, and cemented them into place on the seats.

"Oh, my what do we have here?" The man exclaimed suddenly, "Oh, this is too sweet, really." As he spoke, one of the hands broke away from the stands and began moving effortlessly across the sand arena floor, carrying a struggling form towards them. As it moved closer, Archie almost couldn't believe what he saw. The hand was carrying the red-headed girl from yesterday. It brought her straight to where Archie and the man were standing, and threw her unceremoniously on the ground. She scrambled to her feet quickly, and gave Archie a confused look.

"Oh this is hilarious, you two really have no idea do you." Laughed the man. Archie and the girl turned to look at him. "My daughter Fortuna must be smiling down on me today for me to have such luck. The only thing that would make this sweeter would be if you actually did remember." He moved in closer to the two of them, leaning in as he spoke. Archie unconsciously took a step back. "Ah well, we can't have everything in life now can we?"

A feeling inside Archie was screaming at him to do something, but he didn't understand exactly what. Everything that was happening was confusing him, but at the same time, it felt vaguely familiar. Like a nightmare you've had so many times that it's almost become reassuring.

"So children, let's have a show shall we?" The man smiled, and as he finished speaking, four hulking forms stepped out from the arena archways and onto the floor. They were ugly, disfigured creatures; twisted shapes somehow given life by a force other than nature. The sight of them alone sent a shiver of fear down Archie's body. They towered over the arena, easily standing twice as tall as him. Their eyes, some one and some two, scanned the arena slowly, and then settled on Archie and the girl. On a reflex, Archie looked over at the girl and realized that she was looking at him. She looked worried for a second, but as soon as their gazes crossed, she seemed to reconsider, and a broad smile spread across her face. It was a confident smile, a smile of challenge between two athletes. Archie couldn't help but feel himself smile back, and the warm glow of courage flooded his body. He gripped his javelin tighter, and turned back to the monsters.

"Let's do this." She exclaimed. Archie took her words as a cue and started running towards the monsters. The track was littered with sports equipment which had been scattered in the confusion, and the girl scooped up some discus' as she passed, before she came running after him. As he approached the monsters, he came to the sudden realization that they were even bigger up close. But the girl was close behind him, and he was determined not to give in. He hurled his javelin at the nearest monster, and at nearly the same time the girl threw her discus. Both weapons reached their targets, and then bounced off their thick flesh harmlessly. Archie was so shocked, that for a second he simply stood and stared in astonishment. He didn't even notice as another monster approached him from the side and aimed a thick fist at him. But fortunately, the red-head did, and pushed him bodily out of the way as the fist came smashing down.

"Don't just stand there doofus!" She exclaimed, picking herself off the ground and scanning the arena immediately. Archie felt his cheeks redden as he scrambled to get on his feet. As he did, they both saw one of the monsters hefting a javelin rack from the ground and hurling it there way. They had just enough time to scramble aside as it shattered into wooden splinters on the exact spot they had been standing. The red-haired girl began retreating to the other side of the ring, and after a moment of hesitation, Archie followed. These beasts were unlike anything he'd ever seen. Their skin seemed to be like armour, but they had to have a weakness. Everyone had a weakness, he should know. Then suddenly, it same to him.

"We have to go for the eyes!" The red-haired girl yelled at him across the distance between them. Archie's mind jumped, wondering for a moment if she wasn't reading his thoughts. He noticed she was looking at him for a response, and he quickly nodded his head. The monsters were slow to follow them, but Archie noticed they were gaining. Then, between him and the monsters, he saw his discarded high jump pole lying uselessly on the ground. It gave him an idea.

"Cover me!" He yelled over his shoulder at the red-haired girl, and then he took off running. He could barely hear her yell back "huh?" over the sound of his own footfalls, but he wasn't about to stop. He was bolstered by his own idea, and although he wasn't aware of it, a desperate need to show himself capable. He was aware of a vague feeling of anger over his own poor performance in the face of this red-haired girl's capability. A feeling that felt almost familiar, but as an athlete he was familiar with competitive jealousy driving him to excel, and he was able to dismiss it from his mind. As he passed the pole and his hand closed over the smooth wood, he was only focused on the monsters ahead, closing in on him. He charged them, yelling, and plunged the end of the pole into the ground. He felt the familiar bend of the wood lifting him above the earth, and then he was sailing through the air. He spotted his target and tried moving his body to control his speed. With a grunt, he landed awkwardly on one of the monsters' backs. The beast bellowed, flailing its arms wildly in at attempt to dislodge him, but he held on doggedly. Archie's vision was fixed on the beast's head, and he started scrambling up its back as the creature flailed. He felt assured of his victory as he got an arm around the neck of the creature to heft himself up, but then suddenly he felt a tug on his leg, and he was flying through the air again. He landed hard and lay stunned for a moment, his senses reeling.

"Archie?!" Yelled a voice, and Archie struggled through his mush-addled brain to place a face to the voice. It sounded so familiar, he felt deep down like he should know it. But then his eyes started to focus, and he saw the silhouette of a hulking form towering over him.

"Archie!!" the voice screamed in alarm. Archie, sensing something was wrong but still confused, raised his arm in defence, and noticed that he had a small shield strapped to his arm. Then suddenly the form over him bellowed in pain, and Archie saw it trying to wrest an arrow from its shoulder. The creature glared across the arena out of Archie's field of vision, and he followed the beast's gaze. He saw the red-haired girl there, but she had a short bow in her hands and was dressed in cloths that looked elegantly ancient Greek. The word "Atlantana" suddenly came to the front of his mind, but he wasn't entirely sure where he'd heard it from.

"What?!" Yelled the black-cloaked man, his voice echoing off the arena walls in anger. Immediately all parties turned to look at him. "Who's helping you from that miserable mountain?" He turned to the crowd, face contorted in rage. "Who's out there! Show yourself!" After his voice an eerie silence fell over the arena. Not a soul moved in the stands. But on the arena floor, Archie was coming to his senses, and started to notice that it wasn't only a shield on him. He was inexplicitly dressed in full armour, like an ancient Greek solider might have worn. As he became steadily more aware, he also felt the shaft of something in his hand on the ground. He looked down, and saw a large ornate spear in his hand, an "A" encircled was inscribed on the spearhead. Then suddenly the creature above him bellowed again, and Archie realized that the red-haired girl had let loose another arrow. The bellow seemed to break the eerie calm that had fell over the arena, and Archie took the opportunity to jump to his feet and retreat to where the red-haired girl stood, bow still drawn.

"Ready for a do-over?" she asked, shooting Archie a challenging smile. He once again felt himself helplessly smiling back. "Of course." He replied. Neither mentioned the strangeness of finding each other in ancient Greek clothing. Compared to giant towering monsters and hands made out of living stone, mysteriously appearing clothing was almost normal. The creatures had regrouped around their injured comrade and were coming towards them. The girl released an arrow, and Archie took that as a signal to rush forward. Two more arrows met their marks before he'd even reached the monsters. And then he was on the towering beasts, jabbing his spear with a technique he hadn't realized he'd possessed. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the red-haired girl being pursued by two of the monsters. She was keeping well ahead of them though, stopping long enough to get off a few arrows, before continuing to prevent the monsters from catching up. She was almost a blur in her efficiency.

"ENOUGH!" The black-coated man shouted suddenly. He looked around the arena angrily, his eyebrows drawn so close together that they seemed to be one entity. "I don't have time for this nonsense!" He raised his hands, and in unison stone hands rose from the arena floor and wrapped themselves around the red-haired girl's ankles. Her body was abruptly stopped in mid run, jerking her torso forward and throwing her to her knees. Her bow was flung from her hands, and skidded meters in front of her. She looked from her bow to behind her in panic, and Archie could see the two monsters she'd been tormenting baring down on her. "Now DIE!" Screamed the man.

Archie saw all this and was surprised by his desire to save her. It was like an emotion that had lived subconsciously beneath his own, one that he had never knew existed until now. But once released, was much stronger than any he had ever experienced in his life. Before he knew it, he was running across the Coliseum floor, leaving his adversaries behind. He reached the two monsters bearing down on the girl, and slid artfully between their feet, stopping himself between them and the trapped red-haired girl.

"What're you doing?!" The girl yelled. "Get out of here!"

"I don't know!" Archie shouted back, picking himself off the ground to face the giants "But it sure feels right!" After he said it, he was struck by what a strange statement it was. In fact, he couldn't quite figure out why he'd said it. But the red-haired girl didn't question him, she'd become oddly silent behind him.

"CRONUS!" Suddenly all action stopped on the field, as a commanding gravelly voice echoed over the arena. Even the scarred man was silent. "Cronus you will not escape me!" It growled again, and Archie finally located the source of the voice. In the middle of the arena and approaching was some kind of giant snake even larger than the monsters. But as he looked closer he realized that what he first thought was a giant snake actually had arms, hair, and what could only be described as a face resembling human.

"Kampe." The man growled, "You have impeccable timing." The snake-thing hissed in response, and speeded its approach. "But unfortunately," the man continued in a level voice. "I have other business to attend to which does not involve Tartarus." And as he spoke, a black hole appeared behind him, and inexplicitly he began to step into the dark space.

"Cronus!" The creature screeched, and lunged after the man into the hole. Then suddenly everything was gone. The black hole, the monsters, the armour. The crowd, silent until now, suddenly erupted into screams as they found themselves able to move, and began fleeing the arena in a panic. The red-haired girl stood up next to Archie, her leg bindings having vanished, and looked at him in confusion.

"Atlanta!" Both of them spun around at the sound of a level voice, and Archie saw a brown-haired dread-head running towards them across the arena floor. "Atlanta I saw everyone running from the stadium, are you-"the man stopped dead in his tracks as his eyes fell over Archie. And Archie couldn't help but stare back. He was getting that feeling again, like an emotion hiding beneath his regular emotions. Except this time the feeling was of anger. He didn't like this guy, but for the life of him he didn't know why.

"Phil," the girl cut in, breaking the awkward silence. The brown-haired boy shook his head and looked back at the girl, smiling. "Atlanta are you alright? What happened?"

"I'm not sure…" She murmured, looking a little dazed as she scanned the arena with her eyes, as if she was picturing the monsters and miraculous things which were no longer there. Phil touched her shoulder and Archie felt another unexplainable emotion rising at the back of his throat, jealousy. He was starting to be unnerved by these waves of strong emotion, he hadn't felt this unstable since he was in high school.

"Com'on, lets get you out of here." Phil said to her, casting a sideways glance at Archie, which the girl missed.

"Yeah, sure… okay." The girl murmured, still visibly distracted. But as Phil was turning her around, she stopped and looked directly at Archie. "I'm… not sure what happened but, thanks for saving me." Phil looked visibly shaken by this statement, and Archie felt himself smile on the inside. Although this time he wasn't sure if this was his own reaction, or another strange emotion flooding his brain.

"Hey, I've always got your back." He replied before he could think. Again, he caught himself balking at his strange response. He wasn't even sure what he'd intended to mean. But the girl, Atlanta Phil had called her, just smiled. As if his answer was what she'd been expecting.

"Atlanta." She said, holding out her hand.

Archie, although he had already heard her name, smiled and took her hand. It just seemed right. "Archie." He responded.

"Com'on Atlanta, we've got to get ready for the plane." Phil injected, visibly agitated.

"Okay I'm coming." She replied. "Bye Archie." She said to him, waving slightly as she turned to leave the arena.

"… bye Atlanta." He muttered, waving weakly in response as she left, watching her get small in the distance with the man 'Phil'.


	4. The Bed You've Made

She waited patiently until Phil left the room, trying desperately not to give away her intentions. When his foot steps had faded down the hallway, she quickly changed the TV channel, turning down the volume as she did so to ensure Phil wouldn't hear the change. She'd been doing this since they'd returned from New Olympia almost 3 months ago. She couldn't help it, even though she knew that for some reason it drove Phil crazy.

The TV screen flickered as a line of static danced up the screen, but the picture was clear enough. She could see the purple-haired man on the screen, recoiling as he threw a javelin. She couldn't hear the announcer with the low volume, but she knew what he was saying. She'd seen this one before. _"The Achilles completes another flawless throw. Is there any record this high-spirited young man can't break?"_ He was all over the news these days, Archie 'the Achilles' King. The rising star of the little known, or thought of, original Olympic sports. It seemed to her like that day in the New Olympia Coliseum had been a catalyst for his career, even though most credible sources now accredited the events of that day to contaminated water. It had been a catalyst for something inside her too, although as yet she wasn't entirely sure what. All she knew was that she'd never felt the same after that day, and she wasn't entirely sure if she'd ever feel the same way again. Seeing that purple-haired boy on the screen always brought the strange feelings inside her to the surface for her to examine, although she still hadn't decided if that made her feel better about the whole situation or not. But like a moth to a flame, she found herself unable to look away from the strangeness inside her, no matter what damage her actions did to herself. And she could guess at why her actions bothered Phil. She'd been so distracted since they'd come back home, it must have felt like he was now living with a different person.

She sighed, looking away from the TV screen. Maybe she should stop this. It wasn't fair to Phil, or ultimately, to herself.

"Him again?" muttered a voice behind her. Atlanta felt a spike of fear and guilt run up her body to Phil's voice. She suddenly realized that she'd been so wrapped up in her thoughts, she hadn't even heard him enter the room. She turned around slowly, feeling the weight of Phil's silence pressing down on her.

His eyes were waiting for her as she turned around, unspoken accusation weighing heavily in them. She felt herself wilting under his gaze, a very unusual feeling for her. It made her feel uncomfortable, like she was a little child. But she couldn't meet his eyes to challenge them, she knew she was at fault. She averted her eyes and struggled to get out a word. "I… Phil…" He didn't say anything in response to her struggles, but instead came to sit wordlessly on the couch next to her. His silence felt more like a punishment to her than any angry words ever could. He continued to say nothing, and when she could no longer take it she looked up to meet his gaze. But what she saw there sent a chill down her spine, but only because she'd never seen an expression like the one she saw now on Phil's face. She'd never seen him look defeated before. Phil, perhaps sensing her shock, looked away from her eyes for a second. His eyes fell over the TV screen, which Atlanta had failed to change. The purple-haired man was now giving an interview, and judging by his hand gestures he was talking about his leg brace, which essentially was his claim to fame.

"What do you feel when you see him?" Phil asked suddenly, his voice guarded and eyes carefully turned so Atlanta could not see them. His question struck Atlanta like a slap across the face, and she sat speechless. Phil did not turn to her to encourage her to answer, and for a while they both sat in an anxious silence.

"I… I don't know Phil" she said finally "I don't know what I feel." But as she spoke, the surprise wore off, and she found the familiar feeling of anger welling up inside. What right did Phil have to ask a question like that? The way he phrased it, you would think he was accusing her of cheating on him. "Why would you even say that Phil?" She demanded, pushing her anger over the feeling of guilt welling up inside. "I meet this guy for a total of 10 minutes, and you act like I'm having an affair with him." Phil said nothing, but slowly turned from the TV screen to look at her. His eyes and expression were guarded this time, but she couldn't wash the image of his defeated face from her mind. When he continued with his silent expression, she lowered her gaze again and replied weakly, "I'm not even taking the program there."

"I never thought this would happen again." Phil said suddenly, looking away from her. It seemed like he was saying it more to himself than to her.

"What?" Atlanta demanded. She didn't like the way he was acting. She suddenly felt like he had this secret going on inside himself that she was not privy to, something he felt he couldn't trust her to hear. It made her furious to think that Phil could still treat her like that, even after all the time they'd been together. This was something that happened between new couples. By now, they should have known all each other's secrets. "Jesus Phil, it's not like I'm choosing him over you or something!" She exclaimed finally, frustrated at his lack of expression. After she said it however, she couldn't help but feel like it was a mistake. But she couldn't put her finger on why, it didn't seem like a very spiteful statement. Then suddenly Phil let out a short, bitter laugh. He looked straight at her, and the sadness in his eyes startled her.

"But you did Atlanta, and you will." He exclaimed, then his features softened and he seemed to be looking past her for a moment. "And I guess you were always meant too." He said quietly.

Atlanta felt confusion take over her anger. She still wanted to be angry at Phil, but she found she couldn't hold her fury while looking into his eyes. He looked so sad, so defeated. But she still couldn't understand why. In the wake of her silence, Phil said quietly, "You feel different, don't you? Since New Olympia."

"I… I guess." She muttered, trying not to meet his eyes. The truth of his inquiry scared her. In fact, everything happening at that moment scared her. Phil's strange reactions, his distant gazes, his questions, the whole experience. She could only helplessly reflect on how normal this morning had been, to lead to such a strange set of events.

Phil across from her sighed, and looked down to his feet before looking up into her eyes again. "I'm sorry Atlanta. I never should have hid this from you, I should have told you the second I saw you in Victoria."

Now she was scared. What was Phil confessing? Had he cheated on her and never told her? What else could he be so serious about.

"I… I hope you can forgive me when all this is over." Suddenly he placed both of his hands on either side of her face, and while her mind was still ringing with confusion, his eyes suddenly took on a goldish tinge. She had only a second to contemplate the change, before the thin veil which had been lying between her and her unusual emotions was abruptly lifted away, and it seemed like two separate consciousnesses collided in her mind. Strange images flooded her thoughts, images without attached emotions or sound, like watching a silent film. _A ferocious man-bull was chasing her through dank underground tunnels; Tearing a withered apple from the hand of a man clinging to a floating tree, only to have it spring back to life in her hand; Staring face to face with a towering man that seemed to be made of stars, facing him down with a flimsy arrow drawn on her wrist._ Then the emotions started bubbling to the surface. Slowly at first, and out of sync with the images. Like a digital video playing on a slow computer. _Hunting with two clumsy boys, then a monster charges out of the woods at her, and she's saved by a brown-haired boy on the back of a griffin. Wonder; She was looking down at a running track with the same brown-haired boy, watching a purple-haired boy complete a course. Admiration; She was sitting in a movie theatre, yelling at a man sitting behind her, while the same purple-haired boy was sitting next to her and telling her to calm down. Anger._ Then words started appearing in her head, like wisps of smoke whose shape changes just as you manage to focus on it. _Fighting on the floor of an arena with the purple-haired boy, before being lifted off the ground by a well-built youth. Anger. Herry; Ducking as a golden-metal bird swopped over her head, a blond-haired boy clutched in its talon and screeching in terror. Determination. Neil; Watching the purple-haired boy paddle ridiculously on a kiddie's flutter board, wearing an oversized lifejacket. Laughter. Archie._

Archie.

With that last thought, she found herself back in her room, Phil's hands still on the side of her face. He was looking at her face, worry mixed with sadness in his eyes. She looked at him, and found she felt like she was looking at him with two sets of eyes. But it felt like neither one was in focus.

"Are… are you alright?" Phil asked quietly.

She didn't respond to his question, but slowly pushed him away. She looked around the living room of her familiar apartment, and wondered at the strangeness in which she now saw in the familiar setting. It felt like a part of her had never been here and was seeing it for the first time. And then slowly realizations starting washing over her mind. Archie, Jay Theresa, the Olympic Gods. She remembered a life without them, growing up in her small town BC. But at the same time, she remembered them now, with images and emotions that were as clear in her mind as her life without them. Two lives existed simultaneously in her mind, it was beyond confusing. Then she noticed Phil was still looking at her his eyes questioning and weary. But suddenly her new knowledge came forward. In one part of her mind, this was Phil, her boyfriend of 3 years. In the new part of her mind, he was Pan, demi-god of the forest.

"Phil…" she asked slowly, unsure if her words would still sound the same. "What's going on?"

Phil looked away from her face as if he were ashamed, and replied "I restored the memories of your previous life." The old part of Atlanta would have found this ludicrous. But for some reason, the new awareness in her wanted to know more. "What do you mean Phil?"

He looked up into her face, and she was struck with how guilt-ridden he seemed. "I gave you back the memories of the life when you fought Cronus. Zeus entrusted me with them."

"But…" Part of this seemed to make sense to her, but something was off, something didn't line up with her new memories. "Why would we have forgotten everything? What happened?"

"You don't remember?" He asked her quietly.

"I guess not." She replied, trying in her mind to run through her new memories for something that matched Phil's scenario.

"You did your job too well." Phil replied sadly. "You went to the past during the war of the titans, and warned Zeus about Cronus escaping in the future. So Zeus prevented it, and the Gods never had need for seven mortal heroes." Something Phil had said struck a chord with her new awareness. Suddenly the images and emotions of that instant came rushing forward to her. She saw herself on that stony crag, looking at Zeus larger than life. Everyone else was standing with her, as abruptly they realized that preventing Cronus's escape would mean they would never meet. The last thing she remembered from that moment was looking at Archie, his expression almost terrified. It made her realize something else too. Everything she was feeling, seeing, was real.

"Pan, how could he do that? How could Zeus just abandon us, after everything we did for him?" She exclaimed, feeling anger rise in the back of her throat. Then suddenly she realized that she'd called him Pan, not Phil. And he seemed to have noticed too, although he wasn't saying anything. He'd looked away from her eyes again.

"It was to protect you. You were never meant to need your memories again, the Gods wanted you to have a happy life as normal mortals."

"But-" suddenly she realized something was off with everything that was being said. Something that was more important then figuring out what Zeus owed the seven for their help. "Pan, why was Cronus in New Olympia? Didn't we prevent his escape?"

"You did." Pan replied quietly. "But then he escaped 10 years later, when we thought we'd prevented all threats from him."

"What? But then shouldn't we be there? Why haven't the Gods contacted us?" Atlanta exclaimed. As she spoke, Pan looked back up at her and replied quietly. He almost sounded like he was scared at who might overhear him. "He kidnapped the Oracle Atlanta, he made sure this time there would be no prophecy."

Atlanta took a step back at this news. She couldn't believe how devious Cronus was playing. "But… then why did he attack Archie and me?" She muttered.

"Who knows." Pan replied weakly "Revenge?"

"But then we should know! We can't protect ourselves if we don't understand what's going on!" She exclaimed, feeling her anger coming back again.

"I know Atlanta, but Zeus has forbid it." Pan replied, still avoiding her gaze and the accusation that was waiting for him there.

"What?"

"He's doing it because he remembers what you all sacrificed to help us last time. Without a prophecy, he believes this is a Gods' problem for the Immortals to solve. He doesn't want you all involved."

"But Pan, that's crazy!" Atlanta exclaimed. "We can't just pretend like our other life never existed!" Then suddenly something struck her, like a realization crossing from one consciousness in her mind to the other. Pan seemed to notice this change, and looked up at her.

"Pan…" she started slowly, unsure. She knew her question would be like opening Pandora's Box. But like Pandora, she found herself unable to stop herself. "Are we… were we… how did we end up together?" His eyes went wide, and he immediately looked away from her again.

"Atlanta, I'm sorry-" he started, but Atlanta cut him off. The more she thought about it, the more subtle realizations were combining in her mind to form a larger picture. A picture she found herself disliking more with every thought.

"You knew, didn't you?" She injected, her words becoming sharp. Pan flinched as if her words had hit him physically.

"Atlanta I-"

"No, you knew. You remembered our old life. You started going out with me knowing everything. All this time…" She couldn't stand how he was looking away from her. She wanted him to face her, to receive the full brunt of her accusations. "Were you planning on living the rest of our lives without telling me?"

"No Atlanta-" He tried to get a word in, but Atlanta wouldn't let him.

"What does this mean to you anyway Pan? Is this some kick for you, after I told you no when you wanted to live with me? You'd get your way because poor old Atlanta didn't remember the rejection?" The more she yelled, the more upset she became. Not just anger, but she felt betrayed. It felt like Pan had been taking advantage of her in her naïveté. Suddenly it felt to her like a whole portion of her life had been a lie. Like she'd been living a joke without knowing how many people had been laughing behind her back.

"Atlanta it's not-" Pan stammered, but Atlanta didn't want to hear any more of it. She was starting to feel sick to her stomach over the whole situation. She looked down at Pan one more time, perhaps a small part of her hoping she would change her mind. But seeing him just made her feel worse.

"I need some time to think Pan." She exclaimed suddenly, turning away from him. He reached out for her arm instinctively, but she saw his movement and pulled away. Pan seemed so shocked, so hurt, she could see he didn't know what to do. He was frozen looking up at her. Atlanta took one last look at him, and rushed across the hall and out the door without looking back. Then Pan was left alone in his living room, hand still outstretched to where Atlanta had been a moment before.

On the TV, a line of static moved up the screen as the purple-headed boy threw another javelin.

* * *

The light in the hall flickered, casting strange shadows down the hallway as she carefully slid her key into the lock. The light had always been faulty. She remembered it flickering on and off on the nights when she and Phil would come home late from the Green Alliance meetings. But even though those memories had all been happy, the thought of them now only brought a sick feeling to the pit of her stomach.

She'd spent hours wandering up and down the streets of downtown Victoria after Pan had restored her memories. Her new memories had driven her to seek out her familiar spots in the city, as if she needed physical assurance that her old life hadn't only been a bad dream. However, everywhere she went she was only reminded of how different everything now felt to her. She was no longer her old self, and the more she walked the more she realized that she could never go back. It was around then that she decided to move forward. If everything Pan said was right, and she was the only one who had her memories back, it was her responsibility to find everyone else and protect them. If she could get everyone together again, she felt certain that everything would work out. And she would start back in New Olympia, where Archie was. And a little part of her was glad that he was the one she'd discovered first. She could imagine them both having a good laugh over how they'd fought Cronus together without having a clue who the other one was.

However, after she made this decision, she stayed on the streets of Victoria for some time. Atlanta, fierce hunter of the Olympic Gods, couldn't get over the image of Pan's defeated face looking up at her. She was afraid of seeing that face again if she went back home.

Now that she was here, back at her apartment in the middle of the night, the key made an awfully loud noise as she turned it in the lock. She cringed a little inside as it locked into place, certain that Pan would be waiting for her on the other side of the door. But as she slowly pushed open the door, the kitchen beyond was dark. She could feel her senses probing in the dark as they did when she was hunting, but she couldn't sense another person in the apartment. Confused and cautious, she moved into the little hallway before her kitchen, and closed the door. The lock made a horribly loud click as the door moved into place, but no one leapt out of the shadows to greet her, and she moved forward into the kitchen. She suddenly began to accept more and more, that no one was at home. Gaining a little courage, she crept down the hallway towards the bedrooms, standing on her toes so as not to make noise. The streetlights outside cast strange orange-grey shadows over the floor as she passed, as if the house itself was trying to alert Pan to her presence. The door to her and Pan's room was open, and she poked her head around the corner cautiously. The bed spread was still neatly made and flat the way Pan had done it that morning, at this moment it looked to her like a death shroud. But it also meant that he wasn't home. She was confused, but then a part of her realized that he might be out at that very moment looking for her, coming to her with a reason, an explanation seeking forgiveness. That one thought horrified her, although she wasn't quite sure why.

Counting her blessings, she turned on the light to the room and began her work. Within a few minutes, she had her bag packed. Feeling the pressure of Pan's possible return on her shoulders, she moved to leave the room as quickly as possible. One last look to the bed she'd shared with the demi-god Pan, and then she turned her back and flicked off the light. She moved quickly and quietly like a doe in the night through the house. Without looking back, she slipped out the front door and clicked it quietly behind her, as if the sound might still wake someone up in the dark and quiet apartment.

The room was quiet after she left, the leaves outside the kitchen window casting strange orange-grey shadows across the countertops from the streetlights outside. One could almost believe that no one had ever lived in the small Vancouver apartment, except for the quiet sound of sobbing that echoed in the wake Atlanta had left.


	5. Home is Where the Heart is

She found herself in the marketplace again, but this time the feeling inside of her was worse. Walking between the stalls she had images in her mind of her and Pan the last time they'd been here. It made her sick to imagine him watching her back in New Olympia, knowing that she was a hair's breath from her old life, but that she didn't remember a thing about it. No wonder he'd seemed so nervous, he was probably afraid Hera would pop out from a dark corner and ask him where he was going with one of the former Heroes, someone he was forbidden even to talk to. Or Archie. She laughed to herself, causing a few heads in the marketplace to peer at her from over their shoulders. _Pan must have freaked when he found out Archie would be in that sports display I was going to see, no wonder he didn't want to go._ She thought to herself.

Without really thinking, she suddenly realized that she had found herself in front the stall where she'd seen that necklace. She knew where she recognized it from now, Pan had returned that memory too (to his credit). It was the pendant Archie had bought for her back in their other life, when he wore that stupid mask and became afraid of everything. _Only Archie._ She thought to herself, smirking. She looked over the stall expecting to see the obnoxious thing glaring over the other pieces displayed on the bench. Her smirk turned to a frown when she discovered she couldn't see it. She looked up at the stall to verify it was definitely the one she had visited before, and they looked back at the display.

"Excuse me." She said suddenly, drawing the shopkeeper's attention away from another client who was inquiring about a piece. He looked over at her and a vague look of recognition passed over his face. "You had a silver pendant here, a circular one with a blue stone, where is it?" She asked, not waiting for him to answer her.

"Ah yes, I remember you now. I'm afraid that piece was sold only a short while ago." The man nodded solemnly. Atlanta was a little taken aback by his words. She hadn't realized until now that she was considering buying the necklace. "But I have many other fine pieces," the man continued, holding aloft a selection of necklaces, "perhaps you'd be equally pleased by-"

"Thank you." Atlanta said dejectedly, not really listening to what the shopkeeper was saying. She turned from him and walked away before he could complete his sales pitch. _Com'on Atlanta, snap out of it! This isn't like you!_ She scolded herself in her head. She had thought that coming back to New Olympia would cheer her up, help her sort things out between her new life and her old life. But so far she had only succeeded in reminding herself of what she'd lost by never being called to be a Hero for the Gods. On top of that she hadn't even succeeded in contacting Archie. He was on every TV screen in town, but it seemed like his celebrity status also successfully kept her from him. She wasn't even sure if he was still in New Olympia. She's been so eager to see the city from her memories, that now she realized that she'd never even bothered to check before she left BC.

"'scuse me." Came a hurried voice, seconds before she received a jolt from the side as a youth pushed past her, breaking her chain of thought.

"Hey watch it!" Atlanta called after him irritably, feeling her temper flair to the surface easily as she brooded. But the kid wasn't paying attention to her, he'd joined a crowd quickly gathering around what looked like a film crew that was set up in front of the central fountain in the marketplace. Atlanta was busy cursing crowds and youths insolent enough to bump people when rushing to them in her mind, when she got a glimpse of something through the crowd that caused her heart to rise in her throat, a whiff of purple hair. Suddenly the entire mass parted for a second, and her hopes were confirmed, they were interviewing Archie.

Suddenly, she was the one pushing through the crowd to a chorus of angry grunts and curses. She couldn't believe her luck, she almost looked around to see if Neil was standing somewhere nearby, this was the kind of thing that only happened to him. She successfully squeezed through the last few people, and suddenly found herself at the wooden barriers which had been erected to keep the crowd from surging in while the TV crew conducted their interview. Archie was seated on the rim of the stone fountain, calmly discussing his ankle brace with the interviewer. She was caught all at once by how similar he looked, but how different as well. He was still the scrawny pale kid she remembered, who looked like he read poetry and was somehow much stronger and faster that he appeared. His hair was a little longer now, but still his characteristic purple. His mullet had become a short pony-tail, something she hadn't noticed before when they'd been fighting Cronus. And he still has that silly little triangle of a goatee. It struck Atlanta that the more serious people took him, the more Archie dressed to make himself seem innocuous. Like he was subconsciously uncomfortable with all the attention he was getting, as much as he seemed to love it. _Maybe his mind remembers that it was the spotlight that killed Achilles_. She mused to herself. She'd have to tease him about that later. But then Atlanta caught herself in her thoughts. What was she talking about? This wasn't Archie, her Archie. She looked at him again, and sadness crept up inside her as she let herself see how different time had made him from the Archie she remembered. He wasn't wearing his blue hoodie and track shorts, he had on a sponsor jacket presumably from his athletic promoters, and wore casual jeans. His face was different too, like the different experiences and expressions he'd used this time around had twisted his features into something she no longer recognized. He held himself differently as well, he wasn't the nervous, potentially self-conscious kid she remembered. He looked the part of the professional athlete, used to and comfortable in the spotlight. Her Archie was never like that. She suddenly realized that she's been keeping these thoughts from herself. A part of her had been hoping and holding onto the thought that once she met with Archie and talked things over, everything would be alright. In some subconscious part of her mind, a plan had formed loosely that she would restore Archie's memories, and together they'd reunite everyone and take on Cronus again, just like nothing had ever changed. Now, face to face with him, she realized how far fetched and childish these ideals had been. Like they'd come straight from her old life, from the mind of a 16 year old child, not a 26 year old woman.

She smiled sadly, looking over Archie. The old Archie would have been proud of what he'd become, a successful athlete adored around the world for the very things that had made his life difficult, his leg brace and his purple hair. She took one last look at him, studying his every feature to keep stored in her mind, and merged back into the crowd from where she'd come from. The enthusiastic fans behind her were only too eager to surge forward.

She left so quickly in fact, that she didn't even notice the obnoxious silver pendant with a blue stone hanging around Archie's neck.

* * *

"_You've reached the home of Phil and Atlanta, we're not here right now but please leave a message after the beep and we'll get back to you as soon as we can!" _Her enthusiastic voice echoed mockingly to her over her cell phone as she sat at the café table, sucking down a stale tea. After a few more hours of wandering the streets of New Olympia, she'd come to a decision. She was going to phone back Pan and ask him to forgive her. Even if her memory had been wiped, everything they shared couldn't have been fake could it? Besides, now he was the only one who truly understood what was going on in her mind. Maybe he was the only one who could ever help her feel sane again.

"Hey Pan, its Atlanta… could you give me a call on my cell when you get this? I- I really want to talk, I think I overreacted before and-" She suddenly noticed a shadow being cast over her table by someone standing behind her. A chill went down her spine for a reason she couldn't identify. It was just some jerk standing over her, probably about to shoot her some pick-up line. Why did she suddenly feel so creeped out? She looked up from her cell phone, and suddenly noticed that all the tables around her which had previously been occupied were deserted.

"Oh keep going, please don't let me interrupt." Came a silky voice behind her, causing a lump of fear to rise in the back of her throat. Atlanta spun around, and came face to face with Cronus.

"C-Cronus?" She could barely get out, eyes wide. The cell phone dropped from her hand. The God put his head back and laughed, clearly enjoying the reaction he was having on her.

"So you DO remember my dear." He purred, looking down at her with dark eyes. He smiled then, stretching the pink scar on his face. "Good. That's going to make what I have planned MUCH sweeter." His lips curled back as he uttered the last word, turning his smile into a snarl. "I think we both have a dear friend in this city we simply must visit." He grabbed her wrist with lightning speed. His grip was like iron. Struggling, she didn't remember him having this much strength back when they'd been fighting him. As if reading her mind, he brought his face closer to hers and whispered, "4000 extra years gives one a long time to improve, give or take 10 years."

A portal opened up next to them, and without a word Cronus dragged the struggling Atlanta into the darkness of the circle. The void closed behind them without a sound, leaving the street empty. Except of course, for a green cell phone, screen still open, blinking on the ground. If one listened closely, one could just hear a faint cry of "Atlanta! Atlanta!" coming from the other end.

* * *

Pan scrambled across the kitchen floor, his feet sliding awkwardly on the tile as he rounded the island in the middle of the room, the phone lying uselessly on the ground. He'd been listening to Atlanta's message, preferring to phone her back on his terms, when he had a good answer for her. Frankly, he didn't know what to say to her, he hadn't expected her to phone at all, not after he found her bags and favourite cloths missing from their room. But she had, and even more unbelievable, she was apologizing. But then she'd stopped talking, and he'd heard her utter 'Cronus' before there was a crash on the other end of the line. The last thing he'd heard was Cronus's voice talking about visiting an old friend, and then the line had gone silent. Cronus had come back to finish what he had started, and Pan was stuck an ocean away.

Ever since he'd made the decision to seek her out in this new reality, restoring her memories had always been a nagging thought at the back of his mind. He loved her, he'd always loved her, and the good fortune in the universe that allowed him to start over with her had been a blessing he had not been expecting, but couldn't pass by when it came his way. The Gods were protecting the 7, so he hadn't been able to sense her, but that didn't deter him. He'd traveled to Canada, where she'd once told him she was from, and searched for months. Then finally, in Victoria BC, he'd seen her in the streets, and had followed her until she'd gone hunting. He had no longer been able to contain himself then, and he'd approached her in his human disguise, as a hunter like herself tracking the same moose. He's kept the human guise ever since, it was a small price to pay for staying with Atlanta. However, despite how much time they spent together, how much they enjoyed each other's company, since the day he'd seen her in the streets of BC there'd been that nagging feeling in the back of his mind. It was a feeling that told him what he was doing wasn't right, and it refused to go away no matter how happy he was. But that same part of him knew that if he restored her memory, she'd never be able to forgive him. What he was doing now with her was nothing short of deceiving her for his own ends, and the old Atlanta would see right through to that very point. So for the sake of himself, he'd lived with the guilt of not telling her. Living a guilty life with Atlanta was infinitely preferable to living a guilty-free life without her.

However, then he'd heard that Cronus had escaped from Tartarus again, and his guilt was joined by a streak of fear. It suddenly became possible that the Gods would decide that the 7 should have their memories back in order to fight Cronus again, or in the very least protect themselves from his revenge. So he'd listened, and he'd listened, but the Gods did nothing. Pan had thought he'd been given a lucky break again. And as long as he kept Atlanta with him, he could keep her safe. But then things had started turning inexplicitly against him, and he found himself increasingly powerless to stop them. First it was that ad for the New Olympia training course. Of all the places he'd never wanted Atlanta to revisit, New Olympia was it. He was terrified that the place would bring long buried memories to the surface of her mind, or even worse, bring him in contact with one of the other Gods. He still had his signal jammers that hid him from the other Olympians, but if one of them could catch him physically, Pan knew he was in for a world of trouble. So he had told her no, and given her every excuse he could think up in good time. But Atlanta had stubbornly kept at it, and he'd finally relented, under the condition that they only stay long enough to check out the program. It would be another problem if she decided the program was worth taking, but he'd worry about that when things came to it. Until then, he figured he'd just do everything to discourage her. He'd thought he'd had everything figured out, but he'd never expected to run into Cronus.

Or Archie.

He'd gotten her out of there as fast as he could, but he knew the damage had already been done. He'd seen it the second Archie and Atlanta had crossed gazes. The two of them didn't understand it, but they still remembered the relationships they'd had as the 7 heroes. And in that lifetime, Atlanta had chosen Archie over him. Since then he'd seen bits of her old life creeping into the one he'd created with her back in Canada. She'd started up archery again, which she hadn't done since they'd met, and kept trying to get him to go boogie boarding. But worst of all, he noticed that she started watching Archie on the TV. He'd confronted her about that, hoping somehow that he'd be able to stop her actions. Stop her from moving away from him. But even when he was confronting her, a part of him knew it was hopeless. Atlanta wasn't doing it to spite him, she was just following the natural path of her life, a path that was never meant to be part of his. It was this realization that finally led him to decide that he had to restore her memories, regardless of the cost to himself. Any suffering he'd receive had been his doing, and his alone. So he hadn't been surprised at all the way she'd reacted when she'd remembered her old life. What had surprised him was how willing she'd been to consider forgiving him.

But then Cronus had interrupted and ruined everything. In order to save Atlanta, he knew he would have to drive the one last nail into the coffin of their relationship.

Pan ran to the closet that he and Atlanta shared, and immediately started ripping through the junk that had collected on the floor. Cloths, spare hangers, shoes and bags were thrown across the room as he searched frantically for what he'd hidden there long ago. Then suddenly he stopped as his fingers closed over cool metal in the dark. Hermes' teleporter slid effortlessly from underneath the pile. He looked it over, admiring the shape of it again. He'd stolen it almost the day Hermes had made them. In the old days it had allowed him to stay one step ahead of the gods in his mischief. He'd never been without it. But once he'd found Atlanta, he no longer needed a reason to escape. Since then, he'd hidden it in the back of the closest, a place that seemed appropriate at the time as it seemed to be the only place in the house Atlanta habitually avoided. Partially because he knew he could never return it without ever getting caught, and couldn't just leave it out in the mortal world for the mortals to discover. However, he'd recently begun to accept that at the back of his mind, he truly believed that what he had going with Atlanta couldn't last forever, and at some time in the future he'd need his trusty teleporter again.

Pan closed his eyes, and visualized the pile of rocks he had left in New Olympia, the one that was approximately his weight and size. Bringing the image clearer in his mind, he focused on it, and suddenly he could smell the sweet air of the marketplace. He opened his eyes, and found himself overlooking the commerce center in New Olympia. People around him let out gasps, certainly overwhelmed by the person who had suddenly appeared in their mists. This normally this would have worried him, what with trying to keep a low profile as a demi-god and all. However, right now only one thing concerned him.

"Where is he friends…" Pan murmured, feeling the warm glow rush through his body as he reached down into his powers. People around him gasped again and staggered back as his eyes began to glow gold, but he wasn't paying any attention to them. Pan's mind was racing over the grounds of New Olympia, jumping from plant to plant struggling to grow in the human world. Indiscriminate vines pushing up from the imperfections of buildings, mosses clinging to life between the cobblestone cracks, weedy flowers struggling for sunlight in the dirt filled crevices where buildings met the ground, his mind met them all and saw what they saw for a brief second in time, his actions fuelled by fear. Then his mind stopped on one particular image. "There he is." Pan muttered. "Thank you friend." He felt the little flower on the other end of his mind shudder with the pleasure of being useful. Then he cut contact, and was racing down the hill towards the marketplace, people fleeing from him as he ran. He had dropped his human masquerade, his hooves thudded over the packed dirt and cobblestone ground, the wind blew back his hat and revealed his horns perturbing from his forehead. He didn't care how much trouble he got for revealing himself to humans, he had to help Atlanta, which meant he had to get to Archie as fast as he could.


	6. The RedHaired Girl

After the interview, Archie had slinked back to his old training ground to be by himself. His manager told him it was essential to give interviews like that to boost his popularity, people were interested in him, in his story. _"Your brace kid, it's your life that people are interested, they love a hero with a story, a purpose, a flaw."_ He could hear Vince's words echo in his head, he'd heard the speech so many times. Still, Archie never felt comfortable with the whole thing. He liked the spotlight, in fact his whole life he'd strived for it. But when he was competing, doing something to show that he was worth paying attention to. It didn't feel right that his ankle brace should set him above other athletes in the world. After all, wasn't popularity as an athlete based on physical performance? He wanted to be an athlete, not a celebrity. But on the other hand, he couldn't argue with Vince's methods. It was Vince that got him out of the training school and onto the professional circuit. But, even with all the fame he'd achieved, what he thought he'd been longing for for so long, he still felt incomplete. Returning to the Coliseum was about the only thing that calmed him down these days, and it also brought back memories of that day.

He was sitting in the middle of the sand arena, looking up at the empty stands. In the back of him mind phantom people were sitting there, screaming as stone hands glued them to their places. The media had blamed the whole thing on tainted water, and who could blame them. What else could it have been? He'd almost believed it too, after all it was the easier option for his mind to accept. But the day after, an ugly bruise has developed on his back where he'd landed after the monster threw him. And now, he wasn't sure what to believe at all. He couldn't get that red-head off his mind either.

Atlanta.

She seemed just as unreal as the whole arena event, and maybe she was. He certainly hadn't seen her since that day. But, like the events of the arena, she continued to hang at the back of his mind. Not just because she was beautiful either. He had to admit that the second she'd turned her head around after he'd hit her with the soccer ball, he'd been captivated. For a reason he couldn't explain, he'd always had a thing for red heads. And the redder the hair the better. In fact, every girlfriend he'd had since he got out of high school had had red hair. But his relationships had always ended in disaster. There was something he was looking for in a girl that he couldn't quite identify. He'd start a new relationship thinking that this time he'd finally be able to put his mind at ease, but he never found what he was looking for, and his relationships would fall apart once he realized he wasn't going to find it. But when he'd seen this girl, some little signal had gone off at the back of his head, like he'd found what he was looking for, even though he still didn't understand what IT was. Something else had surfaced at the back of his mind too, like a vague sense of déjà-vu. She felt so familiar to him, even though he's never met her. Even more so when they were fighting the monsters. Or were they? Did any of it really happen? Did the red-head even exist, or was she just the product of a mind tired of searching? A perfect answer to his longings that didn't actually exist? It all just made his head hurt.

It was the same confused feeling he'd felt when he'd bought the silver necklace in the marketplace. He'd escaped from Vince and his media circus one day, and ended up in the marketplace, although he hadn't really intended to. He never liked the marketplace, for some reason it always brought a vague feeling of fear to the back of his mind. Like an adult who remembers being terrified as a child, and now as an adult can rationalize themselves out of the fear, but can't help the lingering feeling at the back of their minds. But this time he'd stumbled across the gaudy piece of jewellery. He couldn't explain why he'd been attracted to it on the shelf. It certainly wasn't manly, and he'd never bought a piece of jewellery in his life, not even for his girlfriends. But just the sight of it brought that strange rise of emotions beneath his own, the same he'd felt when fighting those monsters in the arena. Like someone else was living inside of him and responding to the necklace, even though Archie could only help but wonder why. So he'd bought it, hoping that its presence might help him sort out some of the things going on in his head. But even though he wore it almost everywhere now, it remained an inanimate piece of metal, almost mocking him with it's refusal to give up its secrets. He almost didn't want to wear it, but he found that he felt sad now whenever he took it off, so he left it on, hoping that it couldn't keep its secrets forever.

"Archie!!"

Archie spun around, fearful that one of his more obsessive fans had found him in his fortress of solitude. It was an event that was happening more and more often these days. But what he saw wasn't a fan, but someone he thought he'd never see again, someone who brought that unfamiliar feeling of jealousy to the back of his throat, the one that wasn't his. It was Atlanta's boyfriend, Phil. He was panting and wheezing, and as he got closer Archie noticed what must surely have been his eyes playing tricks on him. Did Phil have horns?

"Archie!" Phil yelled again, stopping in front of him, almost doubling over to catch his breath. "H-has Atlanta b-been he-here?" He panted. Archie stood up, half out of surprise and half out of fear. He didn't know what was going on, but he had a bad feeling rising in the pit of his stomach. And he couldn't take his eyes off those horns, they looked so realistic.

"Archie!" Phil exclaimed, snapping him out of his thoughts. "Has Atlanta been here?!" Archie was caught off guard by the earnesty in his voice, and the fear. He could barely get out his answer of "n-no" over the look he saw in the other man's eyes. Phil was terrified.

"Archie, you have to listen to me, this is very important." Phil said suddenly, looking Archie straight in the eyes. Determination has hardened Phil's face, washing away all previous traces of exhaustion or fear. His eyes flashed down to the pendant on Archie's neck for a brief second, before returning to his face. Archie could swear a shadow of pain passed over Phil's eyes. "Something very bad is about to happen to Atlanta, and I need your help to stop it." Archie balked at this. What was this guy talking about? Were they involved in gangs or something and he'd come looking to Archie for money now that he was a famous athlete? But something at the back of his mind told him this was a lie. The same thing that released a cloud of fear into his brain the second Phil had mentioned something happening to Atlanta. The same mysterious thing that made him buy the necklace.

"Wha-" Archie began, but Phil cut him off.

" No listen. Listen to me very closely, there's not much time. I know how you're feeling, because Atlanta felt the same way. You feel like there's someone else living inside you, a phantom person with phantom memories that respond to things you've never seen or interacted with your entire life." Archie had begun to pull away as Phil spoke, the intensity of his words scaring him, but Phil took that moment to grab both of Archie's arms and hold him there. Archie couldn't believe how strong he was, it felt like two trees were holding him. "That necklace is one of those things, isn't it Archie?" Phil's words cut to Archie's heart like a knife. How could Phil know? "It's because you've lived another life Archie, one you don't even remember. With Atlanta, me, that man who attacked you in the arena, and a million people you don't even remember." Phil was bringing his face closer to Archie's as he spoke, as if he wanted Archie to receive the full brunt of every word he spoke. "And now it's come back to haunt you, it's come back to haunt all of us. And if I don't restore your memories, it will be the end of Atlanta, and probably even yourself. But if I do, and I'm not even sure I'll be successful, you can never go back to your old life again. I've seen it happen to Atlanta, it changes people."

Archie was trying to pull his face as far from Phil's as he could. The ferocity of his words were scaring him, more so than he'd ever been in his life. He just wanted to be away from everything that was happening around him. Phil seemed to sense Archie's hesitation, his fear, because he suddenly drew him it closer. "Dammit, listen to me Archie! Cronus will kill Atlanta, and he's heading here to do it. I need your help to save her! Doesn't she mean anything to you? Don't you remember anything?" His last two questions came out as quiet whispers. Phil looked at him for a second, his eyes pleading. But Archie just looked back at him in shock, he couldn't even begin to understand what was going on. Finally Phil released his grip on him. He looked away from Archie and sighed. "I guess things really have changed…" he muttered so quietly that Archie barely heard him.

Archie was still reeling, things moving around his head that he couldn't even begin to understand, and that mysterious emotion beneath his own was practically screaming at him. He looked up at Phil, who looked more confused and forlorn than ever. He didn't understand what was going on, in fact the more he tried to think about it the more it seemed confusing, but something under his reasoning told him this was important. In fact, his instincts alone kept him from running from the arena at that very moment. _A warrior always follows his instincts._ He told himself mentally. It was his motto, and at that moment, it allowed him to collect himself.

"Phil, I-I don't know what's going on, I'm not even going to try. But…" he hesitated for a second, Phil looked up at him with a faint impression of hope in his eyes. How could he put this into words? "I know what you mean with the necklace, and… I want to know why. Why do I feel like this?"

Phil smiled, a wave of relief washing over his face. He reached over and grabbed Archie's face before he could even react "Okay, I'm going to restore your memories."

"Huh? What-" Archie cried, trying to pull away again. He didn't know what was going on, but it felt like he'd just fallen into a trap.

"'Course I'm not the one who has them, Ares does, so this might hurt. But I'll do the best I can." Phil continued cheerfully, then suddenly his eyes began to glow gold. Archie yelled in surprise, and them his mind was engulfed in a flood of images.

Like jagged, sharp things, pictures and emotions needled his mind. _Drowning underwater, fear coursing through his veins, a giant eye watching him underwater, and then someone pulling him up, up, towards the life giving surface._ But why was he in the water, he was terrified, he'd never been swimming since he was kid. No, wait, he did, didn't he? _Someone was teaching him to swim, he was on a goofy flutter board wearing a lifejacket and she was laughing at him. Then there was this brown haired girl-_ but no, that wasn't her. Archie could almost make out the girl, but in his mind he wasn't looking at her, he was looking at the brown-haired girl. He tried to make himself turn around in the scene, but a sharp pain made his mind jump, and he lost the image. _Yelling and charging a brown-haired bow with a javelin, jealousy hot on his mind._ Jay, Jay-Jason, the leader. He'd, he'd gone to school with him right? No, that wasn't it, there was something else. _Holding a whip and using it to pull him high in the trees, away from the prying eyes of_… of… who was he hiding from? He had been hiding from someone, he knew it. He could just see their outline in the back of his mind. He strained to see it, and suddenly a sharp pain bit into his mind. He cried out, he could feel that, but he held onto the image and then he saw them, two girls, Theresa, and… and, Atlanta.

Atlanta.

Suddenly he saw them, Jay, Odie, Theresa, Herry, Neil, … and Atlanta. They were sitting around the table at the Bowerstone, Athena making them breakfast. Athena, the Greek Goddess, because they were descendants of Greek Heroes, and they'd been called upon by the Gods to help them.

To capture Cronus. Cronus, the man who'd attacked him, and man who had tried to kill him and Atlanta, the man who should have been in Tartarus.

Suddenly Archie's mind snapped back to reality. He was on the floor of the arena, sand clinging to the sweat on his face and his hands where he's collapsed. He was clutching the sides of his head, hyperventilating as what felt like fireworks echoed in his brain. He looked up and saw Phil standing over him, looking drained. He knew where he recognized him from now, Pan, demi-god of the forest. _The jerk who flirted with Atlanta_. No wonder his horns had seemed so real.

"Archie, do you remember?" Pan asked hesitantly. Archie nodded. "Where-" he gasped, his own voice sounding hoarse in his throat. Had he been screaming? "Where's Atlanta?"

Pan opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly the sand around them kicked up in a massive gust of wind that cut him off. Archie covered his eyes from the biting particles, and when it had finally died down he opened he found that he was alone, a large pile of sand in the place where Pan has been standing a moment ago.

"Well this is a feeling of déjà-vu isn't it?" Purred a voice from behind him. Archie spun around, picking himself off the ground as he did. He knew that voice now, deep down inside he realized he'd always known. "Haven't we all been here before? Or is it just me?"

Cronus stood in the settling dust, his black suit immaculate despite the filth around him. His red eyes regarded Archie humourlessly as a cruel smile crept onto his face. It was then that Archie noticed Atlanta, and his heart almost caught in his throat, he was barely able to hide his reaction from Cronus. He had seen her before now as she was, older, more mature. But he hadn't laid eyes on her as the new Archie, the Archie who remembered what he'd once felt for her. Her hair was still held back as if permanently blown back by the wind, its red still as vibrant. But she was taller, he could see that immediately. Still proportionally a runner, but larger, as if her body had finally filled out its purpose. Her eyes were the same though, eyes he'd known her a lifetime ago, especially fierce now that they stared at the back of Cronus's head. He couldn't see much else however, as Atlanta was tied to a wooden pole holding her just off the ground, her mouth gagged. She caught sight of him suddenly, and he could make out the expression of her gasping, despite being gagged. She looked panicked.

"Oh I do love a good reunion" Cronus chimed, looking back at Atlanta. She immediately went back to glaring at him. "Oh, now don't be like that dear. Aren't you happy that you get to see your little friend one last time?" She still stared at him with narrow eyes, but Archie could see a glint of panic creeping into her face. "It's a shame that he doesn't remember you, but we can't have everything we want in life can we?" Archie caught on to what Cronus was saying. So Cronus didn't know that Archie had his memory back, he could use that to his advantage. "At least you remember him, and just think of how vividly you'll remember his death, at least, before I kill you too." Atlanta was still trying to look fierce, but Archie could see she was afraid, more afraid then he ever remembered seeing her in either life. It shook him, he'd never seen Atlanta afraid. And suddenly he realized that he didn't know what he was going to do. He knew he couldn't defeat Cronus by himself, the seven of them combined had never been able to do it. So how could he get Atlanta out of the arena to where Cronus couldn't get her? And then his eyes fell across Pan, poking his head around the doorway to the arena behind Cronus's back. Archie had no idea how he'd gotten there, but it didn't matter. Pan's eyes crossed his, and they both seemed to have the same idea.

Archie smiled. "Hey-hey you!" He yelled at Cronus, trying to sound as uncertain as possible. It wasn't hard at that point. Both Cronus and Atlanta turned to look at him. "Aren't you the guy from before? Is this another hallucination?" Cronus threw his head back and laughed at the question. Atlanta looked at him in alarm, and them downcast her gaze. She looked like she'd been expecting him to remember. Inside him, it pained him to know he was causing her that much grief, but he could see Pan approaching the scene from the corner of his eye, and he knew he couldn't stop the charade.

"Ah, Archie, you really were my favourite." Chuckled Cronus, wiping imaginary tears from the corners of his eyes. "It really is a shame that I have to kill you." Cronus started to turn back to Atlanta, and Pan froze, completely exposed on the open field. Archie panicked, what else could he say?

"Wait!" he yelled, Cronus turned back to him with an eyebrow raised. Pan behind Cronus smiled, and continued creeping forward. He had almost reached Atlanta on the post. "Just-just because I don't know what's going on, doesn't mean I'm going to let you get away with it." The words were flowing easier now, he had to be careful not to overdue it and give himself away. Cronus looking at him frowned, and behind him Pan was untying the rope that held Atlanta's feet to the post. She was looking down at Pan, alarm and confusion pasted on her face. "What was that now boy?" Cronus inquired.

Feeling his courage bolster, Archie smiled. He'd forgotten how much fun it was to play the hero. "You heard me old man, I'm not going to let you kill this girl, whoever she is. I'm Archie 'the Achilles' King." He took a challenging step forward and raised his hands, even though he had no weapon to speak of. Atlanta was looking up at him all of a sudden, a confused look on her face like she was trying to figure him out. Oops, was he overdoing it? Cronus on the other hand, found the whole situation extremely amusing. He put his head back to laugh again, and Archie took the opportunity to wink an Atlanta. Her eyes widened.

"Oh I'm going to enjoy killing you, Archie." Cronus smiled, his scythe appearing in his hand. Archie looked over Cronus's shoulder and he could just see Pan disappearing out the arena entrance with Atlanta over his shoulder, her hands and ankles still bound. Her face was a mix of confusion, sadness, fear and hope that he'd never seen in her before. Pan turned around suddenly and gave the thumbs up to Archie, he returned it. Cronus, noticing Archie's gaze going beyond him, turned around. But Pan was already gone. Cronus didn't, however, fail to notice the empty stake where Atlanta had been moments earlier.

"What?" He roared, scanning the arena around him. "How did-"

"Forget about Atlanta Cronus, you're fight's with me." Archie yelled, and suddenly he found himself in that strange Greek armour again. But this time he recognized it, it was the armour of Achilles.

Cronus spun around to face him, eyes furious. "My name, you remember?!" He yelled. "Which god-forsaken immortal gave you back your memories?" And then Cronus noticed his armour. "And who keeps helping you?!" he roared. Archie ignored him and got into a fighting pose. His mind was racing, but inside he was very calm. He hadn't felt this alive in a long time. "What's the hold up Cronus? Can't take one little Mortal?"

Cronus's eyes flared so red that for a second Archie regretted baiting the God of Time. "I'm finishing you now brat, I don't care who's protecting you. And then, when you're corpse is beneath my feet, I'll hunt down that little girl of yours and skewer her like she does the animals she hunts" There was no hint of taunting in his voice now, what Cronus said was to him a cold hard fact.

"Well, to do that Cronus, you'll have to get through me." Archie replied, spreading his legs into a fighting stance and raising his shield. He felt a small pang of regret over the lack of his Hephaestus whip, but Achilles' armour made him feel strong. The spear in his hand felt right, and his mind was instantly drawn to the last time he'd used it, to defeat the Seeper he'd released from Pandora's Box. That time, like this time, he'd been doing it to save Atlanta. With the spear, Archie felt invincible.

But something had changed this time around. Archie was expecting more taunting, a time period where he could test out the limits of Cronus's patience, to come up with a plan to overcome him. That was the tradition of things after all. But time changes all things, and Archie barely jumped aside as the God of Time came bearing down on him with his scythe flaring. Archie caught himself with a roll, and got to his feet just in time to jump out of the way again as Cronus's scythe missed his abdomen by inches. Archie caught himself again, and turned to face Cronus, who hadn't moved this time, but was standing staring at Archie from where Archie had been a second ago. Cronus wasn't even facing him, but was looking at Archie over his shoulder with an expressionless face. The first two attacks from Cronus had unsettled Archie. It seemed like this wasn't the Cronus he remembered. This man was crueller, if that were possible; only interested in getting things done, even if that thing was killing Archie. He lacked Cronus's flare. A little voice at the back of Archie's head told him to watch out, things weren't what they seemed. But Cronus was just standing there, looking at him. A louder voice in Archie's head told him this was the moment to attack. Rallying his courage, he adjusted the grip on Achilles' spear and charged Cronus. He was planning on feinting, getting behind the God of Time like he'd done when fighting Agnon in the arena. But suddenly he found himself on his back. In the confused haze of his mind, he tried to remember seeing Cronus move, but couldn't. And then suddenly he felt a pressure on the metal of his ankle-brace, and he was pulled of the ground. Cronus drew an upside down Archie to mere inches from his face, and held the boy's eyes level to his own.

"Do you know what Achilles' downfall was Archie?" He asked slowly, him voice stretching out every word. His eyes looked directly into Archie's own. Dead, empty eyes. "It was because he couldn't accept how vulnerable he really was, to the point where he angered the Gods themselves." Cronus drew Archie away from his face and held the youth at arm's length, taking his whole body in. Archie could feel the blood running to his head, muddling his thoughts. But something deep down inside told him things were wrong, very wrong. "And the sins of the father become the sins of the son Archie."

Suddenly his world was flooded with pain, every nerve ending in his body felt like it was exploding. He heard himself screaming but it sounded distant, like someone else was screaming with his body, in a place far removed from where he was. He felt his body being thrown to the ground, felt himself skidding along the sand floor from the impact. But it was a distant feeling, he felt like he could see it all happening in his mind without actually being there. He struggled to open his eyes, and briefly caught a glimpse of shards of blood-stained gold on the ground in front of him. Then waves of darkness started to wash over his mind, and he struggled to stay awake. But he'd never been too good at swimming, and Archie could feel himself going under.

In the back of his mind, far away from where he was, he could hear Cronus laughing.

* * *

Pan was running through the narrow town streets as fast as he could, feeling the heavy weight of Atlanta on his back. People stared and scattered in his wake, but his only concern was getting as far away from Cronus as he could. Fear for both Atlanta and himself fuelled his thoughts. Atlanta flailed on his back, clearly wanting him to let her down, but he refused to give in. He was sure she's want to go back to help Archie if he let her down, and he couldn't allow that. Archie was giving them time to escape, and Pan didn't want his sacrifice to be in vain. From what he'd seen of the new Cronus, Pan couldn't see a way for Archie to escape from the God of Time with his life. The extra years in Tartarus had done something to Cronus, something worse than ever before. And Pan was sure that the second Cronus was done with Archie, he'd come after Atlanta. Pan wanted to be as far away from the Cronus as possible when that happened. Even a demi-god like himself didn't stand a chance against the God of Time.

Suddenly a piercing scream cut through the air. The people of the marketplace, busy fleeing from him, froze in fear. A man's voice, a death scream. It was so loud it sounded like it had carried through the air from miles away. Atlanta stopped struggling on his back, and became deathly still. Pan narrowed his eyes, but kept running. _I'll always remember what you did for me Archie._

Atlanta suddenly started moving again, struggling even harder than before, but Pan maintained his grip. She went still again, and Pan began to think that she was through with struggling. But then her two legs came around his shoulder and, still tied together, kicked him in the face. He yelled, and in a reflex reaction grabbed at his stinging face with both his hands. Atlanta's body was flung from his shoulder and skidded on the ground. Frantically realizing his mistake, he tried to grab Atlanta, but she'd gotten a good kick to his face and one of his eyes was already swelling shut. By the time he got his wits together, she was already out of her leg bindings and was wiggling out of the rope that bound her hands. He rushed her, but she managed to slide out of his grip, ripping the rag from her mouth as she did.

"Pan!" She yelled at him. She'd looked so determined evading him, Pan had just been focusing on getting her on his shoulders again. But her voice was shaking. Pan stopped in surprise and got a good look at her. Her body was determined, but her eyes were terrified. Her gaze was so intense; it sent a shiver of fear down his spine as if the fear was his own. "Archie! Archie remembers, we have to go back!!" Her voice was pleading, terrified and pleading. It was almost more than he could stand to see.

"Atlanta…" He said quietly, dropping his gaze. He couldn't meet her eyes knowing he'd had a hand in Archie's death, that he'd probably ended up trading Atlanta's life for Archie's.

"No Pan no, we have to go back for Archie, we have to!" She exclaimed, desperation creeping into her voice. Pan suddenly realized that Atlanta must have recognized Archie's voice in the scream. Her mind was trying to wrestle with what she had heard and the possible meanings of the sound. He didn't have much experience with mortals, he'd never seen an emotion like this before. Gods didn't die, he didn't really know what happened when mortals died.

"Pan!" Atlanta yelled, her voice nearly cracking. He suddenly realized he'd been losing himself in his own thoughts. _Even my subconscious is preventing me from facing her._ He thought, the satire not being lost on himself.

"Atlanta no, we're not going back." He said, trying his best to sound firm. He saw Atlanta's face twist from forlorn sadness to a familiar anger, like she was relieved to finally have something to be angry about to distract herself from her thoughts on Archie's wellbeing.

"What do you mean?!" She screamed, bring her face as close to him as she could. Pan suddenly realized that even Atlanta's anger was being twisted by this new foreign emotion, the reaction he did not understand. "He's alone with Cronus, we can't just leave him there!"

Suddenly the unpleasantness of his current situation came back to him like bile rising in the back of his throat. _How can I tell her? _"Atlanta…" he started, unwillingly dropping his gaze again. The guilt was heavy on his soul. A part of him suddenly realized she'd hate him forever for this. "Archie… Archie's giving us a chance to escape, we have to take it." She looked up at him, angry but confused, like she'd made up her mind to stay angry at him, but wasn't sure about what in what he'd just said she should choose to be angry about. He suddenly realized that he wasn't making any sense, he was beating around the bush again. _Zeus, why can't I just say it?_ She was still looking him, and he suddenly became conscious of the intensity of her gaze, like she was looking for her answer on his face, not caring to wait for his words. He dropped his eyes again and felt himself stumbling over something to say to get out of Atlanta's intense gaze. "We- I- we can't waste Archie's sacrifice." Atlanta's eyes went wide the second he said it, and he knew it had been a mistake.

"I'm going back!" She exclaimed angrily, her fists turning white as she clenched them in determination, moving to go past him. Pan felt panic rise in his throat and reached out to grab her. Atlanta stopped him dead in his tracks with her gaze "Don't touch me Pan." She growled. Pan took a step back from her, feeling the weight of her intensity. Atlanta looked at him for one more moment, before turning her back on him and continuing away.

Frustrated, desperate, Pan watched her go. "He's dead Atlanta, you heard the scream. You know what a death scream sounds like!" He yelled after her, hoping somehow that she'd turn around. She did stop, but then she took off running, a blur down the dirty streets as she headed back to the Coliseum. Pan stood by himself for a moment, feeling himself empty of both emotion and thought. Then he started a slow jog after her, to wherever that direction may lead.

* * *

Things were eerily quiet by the time they reached the arena, even with Atlanta's incredible speed. When Pan finally caught up to her, she was kneeling in the dust, the wind blowing little sand dunes over her knees where she had collapsed to the ground. Her hands covered her eyes, her body bent over. Her shoulders were shaking, but Pan couldn't hear a sound. Reluctant to disturb her, he looked up, scanning the arena for a body. For Archie's body. But he saw nothing. Then, a slight glint in the sand caught his eyes, and he looked closer. There were shards of golden metal everywhere. He was confused for a moment, but then he remembered Archie's golden leg brace. Something was wrong, but it wasn't what he had been expecting. Cautiously, like an animal suspecting a snare, he walked around Atlanta's hunched form to her front. That was when he saw the rest of the leg brace, and everything was covered in blood.

Atlanta released a racked sob, and Pan found he couldn't help but look away.


	7. Enter the Gods

**Hey Guys, sorry it's taken me so long to update but this chapter took forever to get out. When there isn't much character development I almost can't stand to write it, but i have to add to the backstory somewhere, so volia! The next part is almost done too, so that should be up soon, and I've already started working on the part after that. **

**I hope this backstory is easier to read than it was to write, but it'll pick up soon, I swear!**

**I love the idea of Archie repeating his ancestor's mistakes, kind of gives a little mysterious foreshadowing :). Do we inherit the sins of our fathers, or are we free to forge our own destines?  
**

* * *

The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was a blinding light. For a second, he thought it was the light people saw when they died. Not that he was particularly religious, but it was a warm, comforting brightness; it made him feel at peace. But as his mind slowly became more aware, pain suddenly flooded his senses, and he became bluntly aware that he was alive. He started trying to move his body, subconsciously trying to get away from the pain, but he suddenly realized someone was holding him down. He thrashed even harder, but whoever was holding him was strong. Suddenly, like someone turning on a light switch, his eyes focused, and he realized he was staring into the bearded face of Chiron, looking somewhere beyond him. Seeing the centaur made something snap in Archie's mind, and he abruptly remembered everything. Pan giving him back his memories, Atlanta on the wooden stake with Cronus, his fight with the God of Time, and his final moments before he blacked out. He also abruptly knew where the pain was coming from, Cronus had pushed on his ankle brace until the metal had shattered and pierced the flesh of his ankle.

He tried to find his voice, to get Chiron's attention, but as he opened his mouth a croak came out instead of words. His throat felt raw and sore. He felt like he'd torn something open just trying to get that feeble sound out. It was enough however, to get the centaur to look down at him.

"Archie! You're awake?" Chiron exclaimed, shock on the elderly centaur's face. He looked up from Archie to a part of the room Archie couldn't see. "Hera, he's come to!"

Archie was shocked to hear the Goddess's name and struggled to sit up. Surprisingly, he found that if he didn't move his ankle, the pain was bearable, and in fact his ankle seemed to be the only thing injured. Chiron, as if sensing his wishes, removed his hands from Archie's shoulders and let him rise completely. Looking around, Archie immediately realized that he was in Hera's personal chamber. He'd only seen it a few times during his previous life, but he'd recognize it anywhere. There was no where else in the school that had the large open hearth and the walls of books. He had to admit that he'd often thought about sneaking into the room when Hera was occupied, he was sure she must have some amazing ancient Greek Poetry books that could be found no where else in the world. But as he looked around he couldn't help but notice that the lights weren't lit in the room. And as he looked further, he saw a stone chest had been dragged across the doors at the entrance. It raised a question mark in his head, but he didn't have time to ponder it further, as the Queen of the Olympic Gods had approached his bedside.

She didn't speak immediately, but he could read enough off the expression on her face. She looked tired. She'd always seemed a bit harried when the seven of them had been with the Gods, but right now she looked utterly exhausted. Archie thought briefly that if Gods could age, Hera looked like she'd aged a lifetime in the span since he'd last seen her. A slow smile spread across her face, and she seemed to be doing her best to hide her state of mind. But the attempt was haphazard, as if she didn't even have the effort for that. The end effect made her seem weaker and more tired than ever. She sat down on a chair placed next to him, and took Archie's hand in her own. "Archie, I'm glad you're safe." She said quietly. But then her smile faded, and she averted her eyes from him. "I'm sorry I couldn't intervene sooner, but… things have been tense here."

He slowly moved his bandaged ankle to the side of the bed, so that he could speak to Hera sitting up on his own power. He'd never addressed the Goddess one on one like this before, especially with the Goddess in what seemed like such a vulnerable state. He wanted to be able to face her, to be strong, especially when neither of them seemed to have any strength to speak of. A million questions had flooded his mind as Hera spoke. Things he'd never had a chance to think of since Pan had restored his memories, but things he knew now that he needed to know. The first one came to his mind without a second of hesitation.

"Where's Atlanta?" His voice was still raw and sore as he spoke, but it was passable.

Hera looked up at him again, a knowing smile spreading across her face in relief, as if she was welcoming this normality. "She's fine Archie, don't worry. Cronus hasn't appeared since his fight with you, and my wayward son's signal jammer hides both him, and by extension Atlanta, from Cronus."

Archie's eyes narrowed immediately, he hadn't thought about Atlanta and Pan together before, but now he realized that was the only scenario that made sense. Atlanta had her memories, and she's been living with Pan. They'd been a couple when Cronus had tried to kill them in the arena the first time. _But why should that bug me? This is a different life after all. Focus Archie!_

Hera was looking up at him, neither expectant nor uninterested. As if this kind of mortal reaction had been anticipated, and now she was merely waiting for his mind to rejoin the conversation. He felt his cheeks redden a bit as he noticed her watching him. He took his hand back from her's, and looked down at his bandaged ankle.

"Hera, why is the door blocked?" He asked suddenly, trying to change the subject. However he realized after he said it that a part of him had been looking to hurt the Goddess for drawing attention to his relationship with Atlanta, but he immediately regretted it when he saw the shadow pass over Hera's face.

She looked away from him, responding quietly. She didn't reach for his hand again. "It's to keep Zeus from finding that I've brought you here, and from anyone else as well. I mustn't endanger anyone else than is absolutely necessary." She looked up to Chiron then, and the centaur nodded as if trying to encourage the Goddess. "Chiron volunteered after I told him of your… injuries at Cronus's hands. Without his help, I would not have been able to save you." Archie looked to Chiron, who nodded in his direction as well, and then back to Hera who was still avoiding his gaze.

"Hera," he said slowly, trying not to upset Hera. "Why _was_ Cronus there? How did he escape, I thought we'd prevented that when we went back in time. Isn't that why I didn't remember anything?"

Hera looked up at him at his question, and smiled a faint sympathetic smile, as if she had expected the question. "You did. But my clever father apparently knew we would do this, so he used his time to gather his strength, until he had reached a point where he was powerful enough to escape Tartarus on his own power. And who has more time than the God of Time himself?" She signed then, looking down at her hands. "We think he waited until we let our guard down, or maybe until you seven were born, and then he threw off the bonds we placed on him, the shackles we believed so unstoppable."

"What do you mean he waited? Are you saying he could have escaped before now?" Archie didn't like the direction Hera's explanation was going. He was starting to get a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Hera nodded. "Yes. In fact, even if we could catch him now, I doubt Tartarus would hold him. He learns from his mistakes, my father. In fact, that is why I believe he waited until now to escape. He wants to" she paused here, as if struggling to get over a difficult to grasp concept in her mind, "tie up his loose ends, so to speak. You seven foiled him in the past, I'm assuming he wants to make sure that doesn't happen again."

She waited a second, watching for Archie's reaction to what she was telling him. Or maybe she could sense the turmoil going on in his mind at the moment. Either way she held her story until Archie could make enough sense out of what he was hearing to formulate a question.

"He's… he's hunting us down, isn't he?" Archie asked slowly, looking up at her. Hera nodded. "Yes, and I fear even my interfering might not be enough to keep you safe for long."

Something clicked in Archie's mind as Hera spoke, going back to the first moments Cronus had attacked him and Atlanta in the arena. "You've been the one giving us the armour and weapons, haven't you?"

Hera smiled faintly and nodded. But then a shadow seemed to pass over her eyes, and she looked down at her hands away from Archie's eyes. "But it's not enough. Cronus has made his intentions clear, and unfortunately we've left you all unprepared to defend yourselves. I wish I could say it was something unpreventable on our part, but we're entirely at fault."

She paused as if she would continue speaking, but then seemed to get caught on what she was to say next. They sat in silence for a few moments, Hera still looking down as her hands clasped in each other, the papery thin skin looking more fragile than Archie ever remembered. He was sure he knew what Hera was trying to get at, but he was also painfully aware of how sensitive the subject seemed to be with the Goddess. He now knew that it had been Hera who stood by them when Cronus had attacked, when all the other Gods seemed to have abandoned them for some unperceived reason. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her, but the regretful silence was almost unbearable. "This has something to do with why that stone chest is across the door, doesn't it?"

Hera nodded, and then sighed deeply, as if subconsciously trying to clear the words caught in her throat. "Zeus wanted to give you all a rest, let you live normal mortal lives. We all felt like we owed the seven of you that, for everything you'd done for us in our time of need- you have to understand that all this started as a good intention." She breathed deeply again, trying to keep her voice level. "And when the time passed that Cronus could escape, and our bonds held him, Zeus made it an official decree that we were to leave you all alone to live out your lives, as much as it might pain us not to contact you. We wanted you all to live happy mortal lives." Hera sighed again before she continued to speak. Her vice took on a sombre tone as she spoke. "However, then Cronus showed us that we were all fools; he broke free of Tartarus. To be honest, we all thought Zeus would insist that we contact you right away, restore your memories and bring you all under our protection. But my husband has never been known for changing his mind." Hera paused, looking up from her hands and directly into Archie's eyes. Her face was expressionless, but her eyes showed a kind of desperation Archie never expected from the Queen of the Olympic Goddess. "He threatened to take away the immortality of any God who chose to help you."

Archie's eyes went wide. "What?"

"Zeus is adamant that this is a problem for the Gods to solve. He still believes that you seven have done your service to the Gods, and should no longer be involved in the business of the Gods. Some of us didn't agree. To be honest, it almost caused a mutiny among us. But the final decision is Zeus'. And he set a condition he knew no God would dare cross."

The shock going through Archie's mind nearly overwhelmed him. He'd never doubted that he- they, could and would defeat Cronus. The instant Pan had restored his memories, that seemed like the only conclusion possible. But Hera was telling him that the Gods had all but abandoned them, and that even the Gods didn't believe in their own power to stop the God of Time.

"But… but the Oracle-"

Hera shook her head, and replied curtly. "The oracle hasn't been seen since Cronus escaped. Most of us believe that Cronus has either captured or killed him. There was no prophecy this time Archie."

As a person, Archie was used to solving his own problems. He was an athlete. Athletes overcame obstacles that others viewed as insurmountable. That was the reason why not everyone in the world was a professional athlete. But as that moment, everything he'd imagined he'd be able to count on to beat Cronus, had suddenly become unavailable to him. The Gods, the Oracle, his friends… he'd never felt so helpless in his life. "So…" he said slowly, feeling the weakness in his own voice, "what… what can we do?"

Hera looked up at him, and there was a quiet look of determination in her eyes. A look that gave him hope. "Chiron, leave us." She said abruptly, keeping her eyes on Archie.

The centaur started at having his name mentioned. "But- Hera,"

"No Chiron, I don't want you involved any further." She turned to the centaur finally, and Archie sensed something unspoken between the gaze of the Goddess and the healer. Chiron stood his ground for a moment, his face determined, but one hoofed foot pawing nervously at the ground. Hera kept her gaze on him, and finally he snorted in frustration. "Alright Hera!" He walked over to the door still barred by the chest, and moved it as if it were made of Styrofoam. As he went to go out the door, he turned back abruptly and looked sternly at the Goddess. "You can't do everything yourself, you know Hera." And then he was through the doorway, closing the heavy stone door quietly behind him.

Hera sighed heavily, and turned back to Archie. Her eyes betrayed some of the will it had taken to push the centaur through the door. His look must have been questioning, because the Goddess suddenly said to him quietly, "If I get caught, I don't want anyone else being punished with me." Her ominous tone was not lost on Archie, but she gave him no time to question her. "Archie, listen to me carefully. I'm not satisfied to assume that the Gods can deal with Cronus. He's clearly coming after you seven, and I don't know if I'll be there the next time to save you. You've all got to protect yourselves this time, that much I know. But I'm not going to let you do it without help." Archie looked at her strangely, he wasn't sure what she was getting at. "Archie, you have to track the others down, and restore their memories. Together you're strong! You can protect each other from Cronus, at least until some progress is made up here." Her words gave him a burst of hope, but at the same time her suggestion seemed almost unreachable without the help of the Gods. He was about to ask her to clarify, when Hera took his hands in her own and continued to speak. "I've already made arrangements for you Archie. Although I don't know where the others are, I can tell you that I'm sure some of the Gods have been following their favourites against Zeus' wishes. I wish I could organize things from here for you, but Zeus is watching us on Mount Olympus. Any action by myself would endanger whomever I spoke to, I can't bare that. But I can tell you how to contact the Gods yourself. Mortals once came certain places on earth to contact us, places built by mortal hands for the Gods. These have not been used for millennia, but their original use has not been dulled with time." Her voice was almost reaching a fever pitch as she spoke. She tone both scared him and filled him with hope. This is what he'd been hoping for, what he needed. He wasn't a planner, what he needed were someone else's plans to act on. A part of him suddenly reflected on the fact that this was probably why he and Odie were such good friends, and although he didn't realize it, why Achilles and Odysseus had been such good friends millennia ago. However, things had seemed so dismal a second ago that he was afraid to give in too much to Hera's claims. A part of him knew what it would cost him emotionally if Hera was wrong. "Once you find them, the God you've spoke to should be able to restore each person's memories, as Pan did with you. Oh- and I can give you this." From in the folds of her cloak she pulled out what at first appeared to be a gold arm bracer. It was engraved, and inlaid with one or two cut stones. And as Archie looked closer, he noticed the symbol of Hermes cut into the surface. "This is a teleporter which Hermes designed for mortal use. He made two, and first you've already encountered. It was stolen by my son Pan, so that he could escape out of our reach while he worked his mischief in the mortal world." As Hera spoke, Archie was suddenly brought back to the mysterious disappearance and reappearance of Pan right when Cronus had appeared. At the time, he'd attributed it to just another part of Pan's demi-god powers. _Nothing with Pan is ever what it seems, is it?_ He thought to himself grimily. "This doesn't replicate the power of the Gods however, it won't take you wherever you want for nothing in exchange. This was designed for mortals, and therefore must function by mortal rules. Are you familiar with ancient alchemy?" Archie shook his head, although he was sure he'd heard some mention of it in his poetry books. "Well, this teleporter works along alchemic law that nothing can ever be created or destroyed, only transformed. When you use this, you must picture in your mind an object of similar mass to yourself in the place you wish to travel. Its magic works by literally transforming that object into your body, which would then be in the new location. Where your body has been, the object will then be. However, it does restrict you to traveling to places you've already been, and there must be at item of comparable mass for the exchange to work. But it is the best a mortal can use without the help of the Gods."

She placed it in his hands before she'd even finished talking about it. The metal was unusually cool in his hands, as if the magic of it gave the gold some kind of ethereal energy. He examined it in his hands, tracing the carvings in the metal with the tips of his fingers as if his exploration might cause the gold to spring to life in his hands.

"But Archie…" Hera said suddenly, her voice subdued compared to her excitement only moments earlier. "This all depends on you. In a way, Zeus is right. Everything has started over now. Even though we may be Gods, we can't just assume that you will help us, or that you even have to help us, just because you did in the past. This is your choice, it was always. So let me ask you Archie, will you help me?"

The seriousness with which Hera spoke made his automatic answer catch in his throat. He knew what she was saying to him underneath all her words. Everything was different. There was no prophecy now, and that meant to guarantee that everything would be okay in the end. Perhaps this time there really was no way to stop Cronus, maybe he'd even die trying. Archie found himself thinking of Achilles suddenly, his tragic ancestor who died young. Achilles has also had a prophecy concerning him. He'd been told as a young man that we could choose to live a humble life and die a happy old man surrounded by his grandchildren, or he could exploit his abilities to their full extent and be the most famous hero of all time, but die young. Achilles had chosen the latter, and paid the price. Now, Archie couldn't help but feel he was making a similar choice. But he also felt that there was only one choice to make, and he thought briefly that perhaps that had been the way Achilles had seen it too.

"Always Hera." He replied.

A wide smile slowly spread across the Goddess's face. "Then we don't have any time to lose, come with me quickly!"


	8. Trojan Virus Man

He could feel the timer ticking down beyond his field of vision, but he knew that if he divided his attention to look at it, he would fail at what he was attempting. A bead of sweat formed where his headset touched his forehead, and quickly trickled down his face. He ignored it and it fell neglected on his keyboard, where it was quickly lost in the typing of his fingers. The importance of what he was doing weighed heavily on his mind, and he could feel the shadow of failure hanging in the air. But he was close, so close. All he had to do was-

_**BEEEEEEEEEP**_

The timer sounded and the screen went black. For a second he kept on typing, as if his fingers couldn't quite accept the truth that his brain was faced with, he'd lost. But then those snotty South Koreans started laughing over his headset, and he pulled himself back from the computer screen. They started jabbering at him in their broken English, but he didn't want to hear it. Growling under his breath, he slammed shut his laptop screen and tore off his headset. The silence in his ears was a blessing.

He got up slowly from his computer chair, scratching his beard in a nervous habit he hadn't become aware he was developing. He knew he had work that morning, but his defeat at the Korean's hands wasn't making him feel particularly enthusiastic about rushing there. Failure didn't exactly make for an appetizing breakfast. He'd practically been dominating the new 'Code Breaker' video game since it came out, no one could keep up with him online. Every game felt to him like an insurmountable wall, and solving it like breaking the wall down to its foundations, while his competition was still scrambling to get up. But since those two South Koreans had started online, he hadn't been able to keep up. He was so used to excelling at anything computer or number orientated, it had never really occurred to him that someone out there could best him at it. Not that he was trying to be egotistical, but from his personal experience, that was just the way things had been. But now his personal experience had brought him up against someone who could, two someones actually, and now he couldn't help but visualize himself as that person who was crushed in the rubble of the disintegrating wall.

He dragged himself out of his bedroom and into the small kitchen of his apartment. He wasn't really a house keeper. His bachelor pad had bits of old laundry that lay where they fell until they almost seemed a natural part of the room, and he was lacking many of the bare appliances that even a student dorm room would consider necessary. However, he'd never been without a coffee machine in his life, and this morning he needed a particularly strong cup. His recent clash with the Korean's hadn't only been affecting his home life, he'd found recently that he was faltering in his personal project as well. He called it "_Calypso_", although he hadn't been sure why at the time. He'd never thought of the word before, except in some vague pop culture reference to tropical islands. However, when he'd been looking for a word that emphasized sexy and mysterious, the very things that personified his project in his eyes, the word had just popped in is head and he'd decided to stick with it. The name made his project seem innocuous as well, and he enjoyed the hypocrisy of it. If he was successful, he could put an end to Trojan Viruses as society knew them, and that was hardly an innocuous possibility.

He grabbed a nearby cup, and gave it a quick wash to remove the brown crusty layer which had been forming at the bottom. He filled it quickly with the thick dark liquid he'd been brewing in his coffee machine, and leaned back against the counter to sip it. He sometimes found himself stopping in the quiet time in the morning, like a cat waiting in the morning grass for a turn of fortune to provide it with a meal. He'd felt like this ever since he got out of High School, the feeling that he was meant for something more, that his life was poised on the cusp of great events. But years had passed, and nothing had materialized. And finally, out of desperation he'd been forced to get a minimum wage IT job in order to support himself, as his parents would no longer put up with his computer dungeon in their basement. And then he'd come up with Calypso, and he'd gotten his first taste of being a part of something great. Calypso was a program designed to neutralize any form of Trojan Virus by essentially doing what the Trojan Virus's do, hiding its true identity. His program would enter a Virus by reading the programming of that Virus, and essentially copying the virus's code into its own, making it appear to the virus as if Calypso were another copy of that virus. His Calypso could then get inside the Virus and make the virus essentially infect itself, systematically destroying it. The beauty of it was that, once complete, his program could adapt to ANY Trojan Virus out there, based on the very definition of what that virus was. Essentially he was 'out-Trojaning' the Trojan Viruses, and the more powerful the virus, the more effective Calypso was. He loved the irony of it. But since those damn Koreans had started messing with him, he hadn't felt like he could do anything right. And his poor Calypso had remained idle in a file on his work computer, neglected and lost.

He leaned back to take another sip from his mug and found that he had finished it without him noticing. Alarmed, he looked at the blinking clock on his coffee machine and realized he'd daydreamed himself straight through the time he needed to get ready for work. He dropped his coffee mug to the ground, the plastic bouncing nosily off the floor as he scrambled into his bed room. He's abandoned ceramic cups long ago, it was too much work remembering to clean up the pieces when they broke.

A second later he was dressed haphazardly in his only work suit, and was out the door. The high-pitched whining of his scooter engine reverberated through the room, vibrating his plastic mug where it had fallen on the ground.

* * *

The air conditioning had broken in his office a week earlier, and it wasn't foreseeable when the management would get it fixed, so for now his office was a sweltering oven that smelled consistently like sweat. Most of his coworkers were wrapped up in feeling sorry for themselves in the heat, and didn't even notice as he crept in 20 minutes late. His boss's door was even closed as Odie crept by, and it seemed to him that a rare bit of good luck was passing his way. Taking one final look around the cubicle walls, like a prairie dog poking its head out of a hole, he slunk around the carpet covered wall of his cubicle and sat down behind his desk. Surviving his near miss was giving him a better feeling than he'd been having all week, and he suddenly found himself thinking about the Calypso project. Smiling to himself, he set his briefcase to the side of his desk where he could ignore it the rest of the working day, and pushed the 'on' button on his desktop. It was in this state of hopeful optimism that his co-worker Joe Burns decided to intrude on, as he poked his reddening face over the fuzzy cubicle wall.

"Hey-hey Odie!" Odie cringed a little bit as the middle-aged man tried to get his attention. As always, he tried to make it seem obvious that the interruptions of the other man bothered Odie, but as always Joe remained blissfully ignorant. Or just chose to ignore Odie. "Odie, did you just get in?" Again, the question bothered Odie, and he tried not to look up. If Joe was asking, it meant he'd been looking for Odie since the workday had started, and he knew good and well that Odie had come in late. He tried to ignore Joe's bulbous head sticking over the wall, but the man refused to budge. Finally, signing internally, Odie looked up and replied. "Yes Joe, I just got in." hoping that the less he said, the less Joe could pick up on to make a conversation about.

"Oh, okay, good. 'Cause I told this guy here that you hadn't got in yet, and I'd hate to look like a liar in front of someone I don't know." Joe's head disappeared over the wall after he spoke, and Odie was left looking at the place Joe's head had been in confusion. For the first time in their working 'relationship,' he found himself wishing Joe had kept talking.

And then someone else walked around the cubicle wall separating Joe and his work spaces. The man didn't look like he belonged in any IT office, let alone the tiny business Odie found himself working in every day. He looked well groomed, and athletic, like he had the free time in his day to devote a good lot of it towards personal attention. For a second Odie wondered if he could be some kind of celebrity, they certainly seemed to have enough hours in the day to work on their physique. But then Odie realized that he was wearing a jacket covered in company logos, and he decided the man must be an athlete of some kind. That, and there were no celebrities he knew of that had purple hair.

"Odie?" The man asked uncertainly, his hands buried deep in his pockets like some insecure teenager. Odie, who knew for certain that there was nothing like a nametag on his desk, felt a little disturbed that this man knew his name. He subconsciously put a leg around his laptop briefcase at the base of his desk. "Do I know you?" Odie asked back, giving the man his best suspicious look. The man's expression brightened a bit as Odie spoke, and Odie found himself wondering if his suspicious look had lost its touch.

"Do you recognize me?" The man asked, his voice coming out quickly and hopeful.

"No." Odie replied quickly and firmly. The strange behaviour of the individual in his cubicle was starting to give him the creeps, he wanted to end any conversation with the man as soon as possible.

"Wait- I've seen you before." An excited little voice piped up suddenly. Both Odie and the man turned suddenly to Joe Burns, who both of them had forgotten was still there. "Yeah, on the BBC, I'm sure." His head disappeared over the wall, and Odie could hear Joe's fat fingers typing furiously. Odie looked away from the cubicle wall and tried to ignore what Joe had just said, things were weird enough already without trying to figure out what Joe was going on about. He looked back at the purple-haired man, who was still looking at the cubicle, and had a strange expression of embarrassment and frustration on his face. _This is getting too weird_, Odie thought to himself.

"Look," Odie said suddenly, trying his best to sound commanding. "I don't know why you've come here, but the IT help services are on the third floor. That's where we help clients of the company. This area is just office work, so if you don't mind, the elevator is right over there by the wall." Odie pointed past the man to the wall behind him, and hoped that that was the end of it. The man did follow his hand for a second, but when he turned back to look at Odie, his eyebrows had come together and he looked straight at Odie.

"No Odie, I came here to find you." The man said suddenly. "Listen, I've been doing this the wrong way, " He took a step towards Odie and his desk, and Odie found himself leaning back in his chair in an attempt to put some distance between him and the excited purple-haired man. He started to run through his options if the man tried to jump him, but the purple-haired man stopped, and the intensity in the stranger's eyes abruptly made all thoughts in Odie's mind come to a crashing halt. "Odie, I don't know how you ended up here, but you're better than this," He looked up as he spoke, breaking the spell his eyes had on Odie's mind, but the strange feeling they left clung to the back of Odie's thoughts. It reminded him a bit of the vague hopeful feeling he'd had leaving High School. Before he'd gotten his IT job, before the Calypso project, before he needed a litre of coffee a day just to survive. "Don't you ever feel it? That you're made for something more than what you're doing? Like you're never satisfied?" The man was looking at him now, and Odie found that no matter how suspicious he felt, he couldn't help but nod to the stranger's accusations. Something about this man had suddenly captivated him. It felt as if this stranger who had come literally out of know where, knew him personally on a level that Odie was barely aware of himself. The very strangeness of the situation was almost addictive. The man, seemingly satisfied by Odie's answer, leaned in closer over Odie's desk. This time Odie didn't pull back, but he didn't even notice the change in his behaviour. "Odie, what if I could show you why you've felt like that? What if I told you I could change it, and you don't even have to get out of your chair?" A little red flag went up in Odie's head as the man spoke. _So this is it, the catch_ he thought to himself. _I should have seen this coming. _

"Look, whatever you're selling, I'm not interested. I don't fall for things like that, so if you would be so kind as to leave-" As Odie was speaking, the expression on the man's face went from shock to disappointment, which Odie took as a sign that he had broken the charade of this stranger's game. He expected the man to excuse himself any minute, off to try his trade elsewhere. But instead, the man's eyebrows came back together in a look of determination, and he pulled up a seat to Odie's desk. He sat down, and looked directly at Odie from across the cheap press wood tabletop. "Listen, I'm offering you an answer to your all the questions you've ever had about your life. I'm not asking anything from you, and I promise I can do it without you even leaving your seat. What do you have to lose?" Odie looked at the man without answering, waiting for some kind of indication as to what this stranger was up to. But the man didn't move, his eyes were glued to Odie's face. His determination was unnerving.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of silence, Odie decided he would give it a shot. Why not? His day had been lucky after all. "Okay, fine." The man's face broke into a broad friendly smile at Odie's response, another reaction which he found confusing and didn't quite understand. "Alright!" he exclaimed, and then suddenly extended his hand in a very business-like manner. "Shake on it?"

Something in the back of his mind sensed a trap, but the logical part of Odie's brain told him that there was nothing a simple handshake could do. He took the man's hand, and immediately felt the man's fingers close over his hand in a vice-like grip. He had only a few panicked seconds to sense danger in the man's actions, before everything in his vision was engulfed in a bright flash.

"I knew it! I knew I'd seen him before. You're the Achilles King-" Joe Burns exclaimed, poking his head excitedly over the fuzzy cubical wall. But his voice caught in his throat when he saw that the cubicle below him was completely empty.

* * *

Archie could feel Odie trying to pull his hand away the second he'd taken it, but he knew it was too late. In less than a second they were no longer in the stifling IT offices. A cloud of dust enveloped them abruptly, apparently stirred up by the use of the teleporter, and swirled around where the two of them stood, giving the vague effect of sitting in the eye of a storm. Odie looked up at him with wide horrified eyes, the dust slowly coating his white dress shirt and plastic nametag as if the cloud was trying to swallow him whole. He seemed too shocked to even move. He'd slacked his grip on Archie's hand, and Archie decided to let it drop. Out here there was nowhere Odie could run to anyway.

Abruptly the cloud began to clear, and the gnarled ruins of an ancient stone structure began to encircle them, like the fingers of some long-buried hand reaching up from the ground. Odie seemed to come to his senses then, and tried to stand up, but it took him several tries to do so. It seemed like his legs were shaking so bad he could barely get his balance. _I probably should have prepared him more for the whole teleportation thing_ Archie thought to himself briefly. _Mental note for next time._

"Y-y-you," Odie said suddenly, his voice coming out hoarse and shaky. He was bent over as if out of breath, but Archie wondered if it wasn't just because of the shock. "what did you-" he exclaimed, looking up at Archie from his bent position.

"Archie! There you are." A voice exclaimed suddenly. From behind Odie Archie could see him now, as if he'd been in the clearing all along. But the griffin behind him gave him away. Odie saw him too, and Archie could see the black man's eyes go wide. "I was starting to wor-" Hermes began, but stopped short when he saw Odie's expression. Archie had just enough time to grab Odie as he made a run for it.

"Oh my." Hermes muttered as Archie fought to hold the struggling Odie in his arms.

"Don't just stand there- hurry!" Archie exclaimed, gasping out his words as he held down Odie's thrashing form. Archie's exclamation seemed to snap Hermes out of his surprised stupor, and the God rushed forward.

He placed his hands on either side of Odie's head, trying to hold them there as Odie continued to thrash. "Hold him still for a second now Archie…" Hermes muttered, focusing on Odie's face. Archie, still struggling to maintain whatever little control he had over the black man, decided to disregard Hermes comment. Then suddenly Odie's whole body seemed to go slack. Confused, Archie loosened his grip, suddenly reserved to the role of supporting Odie's body. He looked up at Hermes, and noticed that both Hermes' and Odie's eyes were glowing. Then slowly the glowing faded as Archie watched, and suddenly Odie's body began to move again. As Hermes stepped back Odie groaned, moving his hands up to hold his head. Archie was suddenly hit with the fear that Hermes power's didn't work, that maybe none of the Gods would be able to restore his friend's memories.

That he'd be stuck being the only person in the world who remembered a life with Greek Gods.

But then Odie looked up at them, and even though he hadn't spoken, Archie recognized a friend in his eyes.

"Archie?... Hermes?" Odie asked slowly, looking back and forth between the two of them. "What's… going on?"

* * *

"So, as far as we know, Cronus is free, more powerful than ever, on a Terminator-esque rampage to wipe us all out. Oh- and no one remembers anything." Odie exclaimed out loud, although more to himself than to Archie sitting next to him. He was fingering the paper lid on his coffee cup, which he hadn't touched since he'd ordered it and they'd sat down. Archie sipped deeply on his Coke and leaned back nonchalantly in his chair, watching Odie struggle with the problem of their situation. They'd left the temple after Hermes restored Odie's memories, and eventually made their way to a town which they could just make out from the hill Hermes shrine had been on. Since he'd filled Odie in on their current situation, the computer geek hadn't spoken much to Archie. Not that Odie hadn't spoken. He'd been speaking plenty to himself out loud, and Archie was content to wait for Odie to figure things out. It was what Odie did after all. Sitting back now made Archie realize how nervous he'd been waiting in that cramped office for Odie to show up. Although he'd agreed to Hera's plan, and a part of him really wanted to believe it was possible, another part of him had serious doubts. Especially since a large portion of the plan depended squarely on him. And when he'd found himself waiting in that office, trying to think up some excuse to get Odie to come with him, he'd come to the realization that he felt very uncertain when alone. Fighting Cronus had really been the only brave thing he'd ever done in his life. Before that he'd still been athletic, but he'd only really competed for the glory of it. Being one of the 7 heroes had been the first test of his character ever, and he'd loved it. But he'd always had his friends by his side, even in the darkest times. Sitting in that office, listening to the nonsense prattler of Joe Burns, was the loneliest Archie had ever felt in his life. But now, sitting across from Odie, he felt he could relax again. Suddenly everything didn't seem to depend on him. And even if it did, he had Odie to back him up.

"Am I forgetting anything?" Odie exclaimed, suddenly turning to look Archie. Archie sensed that Odie was trying to make a joke, but he could think of a few things Odie was forgetting. For instance, needing to convince several Greek Gods to disobey their King and risk the loss of their immortality just to help a few mortals. But Archie decided not to throw that one Odie's way, he'd had a big day.

Odie, after pausing for dramatic effect, sighed and went back to fiddling with his coffee cup. "So I've been thinking, who should we go after first? If what you say is true, Cronus can only track us through media sources. But that also means that we can only track everyone through media sources. Cronus can just 'poof' himself there, while we've got to use good ole mortal public transit. Even with Hermes's transporter, we can only go to where we've already been." Odie paused and looked to him as if expecting Archie to add to his current chain of thought. Archie nodded quickly, not wiling to interpret Odie's chain of thought with his own. He was feeling thankful all over again that Odie was the first person he'd gone to find. Odie sat in silence for a moment, staring intently at his coffee mug. Then unexpectedly, he looked up straight at Archie. "Okay, so if it doesn't matter who we go after first, let's go by how easy it'll be to track them down. We know Atlanta's in Canada, and I remember her talking about British-Columbia. That's just a few hours from my home town, which I can teleport us to. We could make a short trip across the border and check the first provincial phone book we can find. I know it's rudimentary, but- Archie?" Odie stopped suddenly, and Archie realized that his friend must have been reading the expression on his face. It probably wasn't difficult to interpret. Mention of Atlanta just reminded him that she was with Pan. That they were in a relationship, and it was Pan, not himself, who was protecting Atlanta from Cronus.

"Archie?" Odie asked again, snapping Archie's train of thought.

"Atlanta's safe, we don't need to go after her." Archie replied curtly, avoiding Odie's gaze. He hoped his answer would be enough to satisfy Odie, but his friend wasn't one to accept half-answers.

"What? But how can you be sure? Wouldn't it make sense-"

"She's with Pan. Okay?" Archie spat, looking intently at his Coke cup. Odie was silent for a second, before muttering a quiet "oh." Archie thought the conversation was then over, but suddenly it seemed to occur to Odie what exactly Pan meant for Archie. "Oohhhhh. Sorry man- I mean, I know-"

"Yeah, whatever Odie." Archie grumbled, trying to drown Odie's sympathies. "This is a different life, remember? It doesn't matter anymore. Just- Atlanta's safe, we need to go after someone else." Archie was already feeling bad about the whole situation, receiving his friend's pity would just make it worse.

Odie stayed silent for a moment, as if he were considering saying something to change Archie's mind. But when he finally spoke, he'd changed topics completely. "Herry lives on a farm, I remember that much. We could really use his strength. Plus, I bet out of all the Gods, Hercules would keep track of Herry. He's his direct descendant after all. I wouldn't be surprised if he has Herry's memories either. And I bet that as a former mortal, he'd be more willing to help us mortals than the other Gods." Odie paused, not hiding the fact that he was waiting for Archie's reaction. Achilles' descendant sighed inwardly, he wasn't feeling as cheery as he had been a second ago.

"Yeah, sounds good. Hera mentioned something about using the temples. Do you know any Hercules temples around here?" A smile spread across Odie's face as Archie spoke, and Archie could sense his friend was already picturing a plan coming together in his head. "Yeah, com'on!" Odie exclaimed, jumping out of his seat.

"What- right now? Don't you want to relax a bit-" Odie grabbed his arm as Archie was stammering, and nearly pulled him out of his chair. "Com'on Archie," his friend exclaimed, "we've got a God of Time to thwart. This is no time for Coke."

"Okay, okay, fine. Put away the super hero impersonation, I'm coming." Archie replied, smiling. He was starting to feel glad all over again that he had tracked down his friend. If it wasn't for Odie, he'd probably just sit around and sulk about Atlanta.

As the two friends disappeared into the crowd, the busboy came to clear the table they'd been sitting at. As he picked up the paper coffee cup, he was surprised to find it full. He wasn't aware of the significance of it, but it was the first coffee Odie hadn't finished since High School. It was the first one that he didn't need to.


End file.
